Chemical Bonding
by The Rival
Summary: Epilogue is in!!!! Please read and review!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Mandark discovers something about himself and himself...and the plot thickens! PLEEZ R&R! REVIEWS R APPRECIATED!!!
1. Chemical Properties

Chemical Bonding

By Lennon Karma, Bringer of Weitd Fanfics

I haven't come to own any of da people from Dexter's Laboratory since my last Dexter fanfic (to which this fanfic has NO CONNECTION WITH. These are totally separate.), which means I still don't own any of them. As my new namesake, Bringer of Weird Fanfics proclaims, this one is no exception. It is REALLY weird. But I hope that doesn't turn you off. (This happens after the Ego Trip thing.) Oh, just for da record, I want to make sure every reader knows that I have absolutely nothing against gays. (I am bisexual myself. But I would still like to own Mandark © © © )

PLEEZ R&R!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Spank u 4 ur time. Now 4 da fic.

Chapter 1:

Chemical Properties

"Good morning, class." The day began as any other. "Good morning, Mr. Luvinski." The class chorused as they did every morning when science class began. "Today we will continue the work we began yesterday, so find your partner and get started." Mandark groaned, wishing he would be assigned a new partner today, but of course, he wouldn't be. He was stuck with his sworn enemy, Dexter. He was a lab partner, but not an ally.

His red haired competitor was, to Mandark, the devil himself. Dexter, one to be despised. Mandark continued to fly through his science worksheet, with the speed of the light waves he was studying. Although Dexter was his lab partner, that did not affect Mandark's feelings. At least science would be over soon, and he wouldn't have to see Dexter's smirking face again until the end of the day. With a flourish, he finished his worksheet, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his chair. He seeing that sneered in Dexter's direction, he was not yet done. Satisfied, Mandark packed up his supplies, and waited for the bell.

School was no challenge for him; it was simply an exhibition of his superior skill. His knowledge surpassed that of some of his teachers. There was no stopping him. There was, however, a glitch in his school-oriented world. Every guy talked about how far he'd gone with his girlfriend, and every girl was going on about how cute her boyfriend was and how many times she's been kissed. Nothing of the sort existed in Mandark's life. Girls were another species to him; they had no connection with him. Sure he'd been curious, but before he could get up the courage to speak to any of these goddesses, he felt it wasn't worth it. 

The bell rang, and everyone was out the door before its sound had died away. Leaving with the rest, Mandark was in no hurry to leave. He stopped at his locker, and ran a brush slowly through his silken black hair. Secretly, he loved to watch it sparkle. He loved to comb it, run his fingers through it, twirl a strand around his finger. He continued on to lunch thinking about what it would be like to have a girlfriend. It seemed so glamorous when the people around him would talk about the latest couples.

He had often dreamed of DeeDee. She was everything he was not; this was part of her intrigue. She was a creature of the light, while he hid himself in shadow. Rather than try to summon up the courage to speak to her, Mandark admired her from afar. Knowing he was almost guaranteed some sort of undesirable response, he felt safer to just keep it the way it was. It would come to him when the time was right. But if that was true, the "right time" was taking its time. What was wrong?

Lunch passed quickly, and after grabbing his books, he headed for the stairs to go to history class. The crowded stairs were mobbed by people, all in their own worlds. Jostled around, he was finally knocked off his feet, scattering books and papers all over the hall. Hardly anyone noticed; Mandark was usually tripping over something, often his own feet. Crawling on all fours in an effort to gather all his things together, he tried in vain to catch up with his wandering trigonometry homework. "No way in hell am I going to redo those problems. The law of cosines takes forever!" Then, there it was, right in front of his face. "Here." A boy said to him. Mandark liked the low, sturdy tone of the voice. Looking up, he found a likeable expression, kind, but not pitying, smiling, but not sneering. This was an expression he did not see often. The face was gone as quickly as it had appeared. They were from two unconnected worlds. 

Mandark couldn't help but ponder that encounter. He had never been so awestruck by a moment before. It was such a simple thing, one look. But it overpowered him. He found a pleasure in thinking of it. What was this? He wondered to himself. Why was he so moved by this one thing? He had never even seen this boy before. Not that it mattered. The emotion was there. Shrugging it off as unimportant, he threw himself headfirst once more into his studies. 

Mrs. Wolfberg stood at the front of the class, peering over her glasses. "I have handed out your packets of questions for you to answer in class. If you don't finish it here, take it home and finish it for homework." Mandark opened his book, and began reading about World War II. He remained focused, skimming through his work easily until he came to question 13: 

__

"Who was persecuted in the Holocaust? Why?"

This didn't faze him until he began reading the passage that contained the answer. He continued to scrawl robotically onto his paper, "Jews, Poles, Slavs, Gypsies, the mentally retarded, and gays." Stopping quickly, something occurred to him in a cold flash. Then, calming down, he consoled himself, no, that can't be it. Not me

That afternoon when school was over, Mandark shot up to his room and shut the door behind him. The family chant ritual could wait. Other things were more important now. Gently sitting down on the edge of his bed, for the first time, he truly noticed his décor: flowers on the headboard of his bed, flowers around his mirror, not to mention the name his parents had chosen for him. 

Having done enough study of such things to know that sexuality is not a black and white thing. There is a spectrum; it's difficult to be all straight or all gay. But he knew most people consider themselves one, the other, or right in the middle. He licked his lips, adjusted his tie, and laid back against his pillows. He pictured himself kissing a girl, something he had never done before, except the time Olga destroyed his model rocket and had to apologize and kiss him. But that didn't count because he was 5 years old, it was on the cheek, and most importantly, she was his sister. Another contribution was how she spat, yelling, "Ewww, Sue!" afterwards. Grimacing at the memory, Mandark removed his glasses and tried to imagine the real thing. In movies, it seemed as if every boy's first kiss was with the girl of his dreams, and fireworks went off, fanfares sounded, and he always knew what to do, what to say, how to feel. This was not the case for him. Forcing his eyes tighter, he tried to get a reaction. No luck. Not only was the idea not a thrill, but he couldn't even picture himself with a girl, kissing or otherwise! 

Now the ultimate test. Relaxing once more, he tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss a boy. This was more difficult to imagine, as he had never seen two boys kiss before. To him it had been something every boy knew about, but never took interest in. With only a hint of effort, there he was in his mind's eye, slowly snaking his arms around a large, muscular neck. How could something that repulsed him so be this beautiful? Much as he loved the vision he had created, how could he live that down? The things people would say now that his suspicion was more fully supportedhe was gay.

He didn't want to believe it, but there was really no other explanation. He hadn't even considered such things before, now suddenly, it was all a part of him. It was so sudden, yet he couldn't understand how he had never noticed it before; it seemed to obvious to him now. But if it was so obvious to him, had anyone else noticed? Did his parents notice? What would they think?

What did it matter? Although already having been exposed to the stereotypes and insults when they really didn't affect him, he saw no boundaries. It was his life; he could live it as he wanted. If he could break free of his parents' grasp to construct his incredible laboratory, he could embark into this lifestyle. 

He knew he couldn't tell anyone. Surely he would only be met with the barrage of harassment he endured on a regular basis, only with that much more intensity behind it. If anyone found out he was(deep breath)he didn't even want to consider. He had always known he had been different, beyond his far-reaching genius. There had been something else. Something that, until now had remained in the cobwebbed corners of his mind, unnoticed, unidentified. 

Changing quickly into his pyjamas, Mandark began to wonder about what this meant for his future. He instantly feared it meant he would not live out the American dream: marrying a beautiful woman, and living in the suburbs with two children and a dog. That was unlikely to happen anyway, as he was allergic to dogs, but that was the least of his worries. Falling into an uneasy sleep, he wished he knew what to do when the morning came.

When his alarm went off, he didn't meet it with his usual laugh. Instead, he rose solemnly, dressed, packed up his briefcase, and waited for the bus. In his state of paranoia, Mandark felt as though all eyes were on him. Could they tell he was gay? Surely not, he confided himself. No one took the slightest interest in his appearance on the bus. 

With gym class first period in the day, he couldn't figure out just how he could be gay and have somehow ignored all the tell-tale signs. Every day, as he and his classmates changed for gym, he had eyed them, head to toe, but mostly in between. He didn't really notice his gaze wandering; it had become habit. No one else seemed to notice either. All the other boys apparently cared about was winning whatever game was being played that day. Watching a large boy put on a jockstrap, Mandark was filled with a desire, an impulse he would never dare act on, to leap up, and cling to the boy, never letting go. 

Gym had never been his best subject. His arms and legs were all over the place, and he made up for it by being slow. Today, he determined to try harder than ever to win the attention of his teammates. Football was definitely not his best sport. It involved hand-eye coordination, running, and teamwork, which for him, was not a good combination. Four fumbles in a row proved that. 

The fact that his team was losing 14 to 22 confirmed it. In the last minute, he stood hidden behind the more capable players, his designated position, where he would never have to become part of the game. A long pass brought the ball screeching through the air at top speed. Mandark wanted to stay put, but his feet told him to move. His feet gracefully left the ground, and he landed softly on both feet, cradling the ball. Tearing across the field, Mandark felt his lungs burning, gasping for air, as he neared the endzone. Passing the ball off to another player, he was pulled down from behind to the bottom of a dogpile. 

With the final score being 21-22, even though Mandark's team lost, they were impressed by his brief moment of glory. On his way back to the locker room to put his regular clothes back on, for the first time ever, he was pleased with his performance in gym class. Surprised by a pat on the back, he whirled around quickly to find the team captain. "You did good, Astronomenoff." Stopping in his tracks and watching the team captain reside to the locker room, Mandark felt a chill run down his back. What, short of heaven, could be so wonderful?

Later that morning, he made his way back to the science room once again. Setting his books down on the table, he glanced briefly across the room, which was long enough. Looking back, he wanted to smack himself across the forehead for not noticing this before. The attractive bone structure. Those flushed, rounded cheeks. The glasses that matched his own. That fiery red hair. Red, the color of desire, and black, the color of despair. Together, these colors summed up Mandark's feelings of confusion at this moment. How could he feel so passionate for Dexter, his arch-nemesis? This was more than locker-room lust, much more. 

Dexter was on his every thought. What could he say other than it was an obsession? Dinner was more monotonous than it was on a typical day; anything without Dexter was hardly anything. Wind Bear paused between bites, seeing the look of distraction on Mandark's face. "Susan, you are awfully quiet tonight. Is something bothering you?"

Mandark wondered what brought this on, mostly because he was always quiet at dinner. Tabletalk never seemed to involve him, so he just tried to avoid it altogether. "No, father, nothing," he answered halfheartedly. He was in another world. Olga rested her arms on the table smirking, "He's just pissed 'cuz he can't get girls." Mandark scowled at her. "Olga," warned Wind Bear, "Please don't talk like that at the table." Olga rolled her eyes, but sat back in her seat and was quiet. 

Mandark wished she was right. The fact that it was boys he was after, not girls, compounded the problem over and over. Above all else, he hoped this was just a phase. Maybe it was just a curiosity for other boys, something he would move past. This was unlikely, especially since that is what his parents thought and hoped his fascination with science and technology was: only a passing phase. And just like that case, he knew this one would follow the same rule. This was not going to just disappear.

The sight of Dexter thrilled him, and he couldn't even pinpoint the reason. It didn't matter. He would have felt the same way no matter what the reason. Still, with the magnitude of his affection, he couldn't just let it lie dormant when he knew it needed to be satisfied. There was no way around it: somehow, he would have to tell him.


	2. Gravitational Pull

CHEMICAL BONDING II

By Lennon Karma, a twisted little freak

I still don't own any of da people from Dexter's Lab (but as I've said before, I would like to own Mandark J ) Anyway, I warned you before the first chapter that this would be weird and I really was not kidding. Well, now for chapter 2. 

Chapter 2:

Stronger Than the Force of Gravity

It didn't take long for Mandark to realize that this would be harder than he had thought. His love was his enemy, an enemy who would surely use it to his advantage, a chance to strike a fearsome blow to Mandark's pride. Frustrated, he scribbled on his science notes, trying to subdue his emotions. Surely he could get over Dexter and find someone else. After all, how could he love someone whose life goal was to bring him to his knees? It was all he could stand to see Dexter lean forward and whisper to Douglas, his best friend. What if Dexter was in love with Douglas, and Mandark lost his idol? He knew deep down it wasn't like that, but his brain wouldn't process it. All he could think of was one more day all on his own

He spent his days gaping at Dexter; his nights dreaming of him. In his lab, surrounded by familiar black thorns and red marble, he urged his mind to come up with a solution. Finding himself unable to do so, he snatched a school yearbook, looking through the photos. Slicing out Dexter's picture, he cut it into a heart shape, and pressed it against his cheek. "I love you, Dexter." He whispered in his nasal voice. He returned to his room, placing the picture in a box of various things on his dresser. Still, his feelings alone could not bring them together. Dexter had to love him back.

Sighing, Mandark was sure that would never happen, and his hope would never become a reality. His perception of Dexter's sexuality was his main evidence, but the face that looked stonily back at him from the mirror only added to it. His black hair was in sharp contrast with his pale, creamy skin, sallow from lack of sunlight. His eyes were large and very bright, but masked by thick glasses. "Why are you so goddamn repulsive?" he pleaded to his reflection, whose eyes blinked quickly, and lowered themselves slowly to the floor. 

Frustrated, he kicked his shoes off, allowing them to slide quickly to the wall. To him at that moment, it seemed there was no life without love, and there was no love without Dexter. 

Hard core and analytical though he was, his romantic side gushed out when his emotions got the better of him. An idea that appealed to him was one of dying in Dexter's arms; Dexter holding him in his arms, simply being with him in his final moments as he took his final breaths

Mandark smiled subtly at the thought, but it didn't last long, as his scientific side overthrew his romantic one. What were the chances of that ever happening? Surely Dexter would never be able to find any attraction in Mandark. This assumption ate away at his confidence, leaving nothing but the acknowledgement of his adoration of Dexter. Without Dexter's approval of him, what was he worth?

Mandark tried in desperation to get past this self-hatred, but what could he do? Dexter was everything; Dexter was his life. There was no way around it he could see. Somehow, he had to get an answer, even if it was no. He had to come clean. Someday, his ultimate test awaited him.

After weeks of planning exactly what to divulge, Mandark could no longer contain it. Sitting in homeroom, he listened to the announcements halfheartedly, as he began writing away, quickly wearing his pencil down. He wrote exactly what he felt and prepared to pass it to Dexter, since he could not dream to confront him face to face. After perfecting time and time again his ledger of confession, he looked down on his finished work:

"D.M.," he began, unable to bring himself to write Dexter's full name. 

"As ironic as this will seem, I must confess to you a revelation you may never fully understand. I'm not sure that I do. I am devotedly in love with you. You surely think this is a trick, but I promise you, it is not. Weeks ago, you stood out to me as the most incredible earthly creature. Our years of opposition have set us distant from one another, but I want that to change. I don't know if I can bear one more day of you not caring. I could be as true and faithful a lover as any, and I hope on my life you can see that. If you can't, I understand if you will hate me that much more, but still, I will love you.

~ Mandark"

Satisfied, he wrote Dexter's initials on the front of the paper, and handed it to the girl behind him. Mandark held his breath, and felt his heart in his throat. Part of him wanted the note back, and yet he knew that his feelings would only plague him until he found a way to resolve them. In what felt like an eternity, he received a tap on the back, and turning quickly, he found the girl thrusting a note in his face.

He whipped back around and unfolded the letter. Hoping beyond hope the answer was yes, he read,

"Mandark,

I had no idea you felt that way. It surprised me that you would take such interest in someone like me, but if you truly feel that way, I'm all for it. Want to sit together at lunch?"

Mandark was in a state of shock. Gasping for breath, he tried to get his mind around the fact that his true love had not only didn't mind this simple confession of such a complicated thing, but also offered to sit together at lunch! At last, he regained his composure and picked up where he left off.

"I never knew before just how romantic you were. An account such as this crosses gender's boundaries. I would love to become more than a friend to you. See you at lunch!

~ Douglas"

The thrill of victory dulled Mandark's acute senses just long enough to stop him from catching the author of the response at first. Then it sank in. Douglas??? His brain screamed. How did he get the note? And why would he think it was for him? I knew that didn't look like Dexter's handwriting. Skimming through the letter once more, he tried to remember where his error lay. Finally, he knew. He now wished he had just written Dexter's full name, since Dexter had the same initials as his best friend, Douglas Mordecai! 

Embarrassed and furious beyond rational thought, Mandark just wanted to find a way out of it. While he had to admit that Douglas had a certain charm, it was Dexter he truly adored. Still, he considered the possibility of this "practice round." With his little experience, a test like this would help him a great deal. If nothing else, Douglas's docile nature could certainly get him started. 

Whipping out a piece of paper, he began a reply.

"Douglas, 

I'm relieved to hear that. Will you meet me by the water fountain by the cafeteria door after the lunch bell rings?"

Not bothering to sign it this time, he handed it off, and watched for a response. Douglas's eyes scanned the paper quickly from left to right. Looking up, he met Mandark's eyes and nodded, winking coyly. Contemplating the unexpected turn of events, Mandark realized that this may have been for the best after all.

The lunch bell rang, and Mandark paced quickly to their meeting spot. Sure enough, there was Douglas, adjusting his glasses. "Hello, Douglas," Mandark said softly. "Hi," Douglas answered. With the situation that lay at hand, neither felt like eating, and the two sat across from each other at an empty table. 

Slightly uneasy, Mandark was unsure how to start any conversation. This was a pivotal moment; anything could upset its delicate balance.

"So, how was your morning?" Douglas asked easily, as if it was nothing.

"All right," Mandark replied. "Except I only got an A- on my Spanish test. Languages are difficult for me."

Smiling, Douglas announced a suggestion. "You could come to my house sometime for a 'study session'." Mandark wasn't sure exactly what they would be studying, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't be Spanish. 

"That sounds enjoyable." He answered with a nervousness Douglas picked up on. Lowering an eyebrow, Douglas rested his chin on his hand, and continued to look at Mandark. 

After he felt he could stand Douglas's I'm-on-to-you expression no longer, he spoke again. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but have you ever" the question just ended there, as Mandark couldn't bring himself to finish it.

"Everwhat?" Douglas lifted his head and crossed his arms on the table.

"Everwith a guyyou know" Mandark's pale skin instantly became a rosy shade as he blushed deeply. 

Douglas smiled again and patiently replied, "Well, sort of. It was on a dare, actually. A few years ago, at a birthday party, someone dared me to kiss Dexter. I actually liked it" his voice trailed off, as he reminisced. Mandark found it a comforting thought to have someone with experience, even if it was only on a dare. 

They talked all through lunch, hardly noticing the bell ring to send them on to their next class. Rising from the table, Douglas pulled a pencil out from behind his ear and scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "My phone number. Call me sometime soon." He told Mandark. Mandark took a pencil from his pocket protector and gave his number to Douglas. The two smiled at each other one last time and parted. 

The rest of the day followed a confused, yet delightful passage in Mandark's mind. For something that had turned out so differently from the way he had planned it, he was quite pleased with himself. Still he was unsure. Just this morning, he had hardly noticed Douglas's existence, and now he was head over heels. Could people really fall in love so soon? If they could, he told himself, he just had. 

The next few weeks passed much in the same manner. Douglas and Mandark sat together at lunch every day, called each other on the phone every night, and spent the rest of the time just thinking about each other. No one seemed to notice anything unusual. Even Dexter failed to see the change in his best friend. And Mandark had not felt more complete than he had since the completion of his laboratory.

At last, Mandark received the phone call he had been waiting for since Douglas came into his life. "Mandark," he began. "We've been, well, *talking* for a while now, and I was just wondering if you thought we should start actually going out." Mandark knew that it had been quite a while of, as Douglas aptly put it, *talking*. Sure, he was ready to advance. "Yes," Mandark answered. "I think so too." 


	3. Magnetic Field

CHEMICAL BONDING III

By Lennon Karma, who else? 

I've been really busy lately (studying for a science testwhat a coincidence), so it's been tough to find time to write this. As always, I don't own any of da people from Dexter's Lab. Uh, I don't think I have anything else to say, so you can just read da fic. 

Chapter 3:

Magnetic Field

"So, how does Friday night at 7:00 sound?" Douglas urged. Mandark, still caught up in the excitement, let go of the breath in his lungs, and opened his mouth to speak. "Y-y-yes. That sounds good." He answered, faltering. "Excellent. I'll come by and meet you at your house." Barely catching the last words, Mandark quickly agreed and hung up the phone with a wavering hand. Why he was so nervous he wasn't sure. One reason he knew he was nervous was, as always, his obvious lack of experience. Also, Douglas was a "trial run", and after all Douglas had done for him, he couldn't let him down. 

But what would Douglas expect? Mandark wanted to just be himself, but it wasn't that simple. He wasn't sure who was going to play the "master." Mandark hoped it would be Douglas, because not only did Douglas actually understand the depth of what was going on, he was also the more masculine of the two. Running his fingers through his gleaming black hair, he made up his mind to wait for the signal from Douglas before making any more life-changing decisions.

During science on Friday, Mandark could barely contain himself. If it made him this jittery seeing his lover at this distance, what would it be like when he was up close? Sighing, Mandark set to work once more. 

Douglas joined him for lunch as always, as it had become habit. Not much was said; between their lunches together and constant phone calls, they didn't spend much time apart. Still, this wasn't the real cause for the silence. With the approach of their first official date, there wasn't much to say.

The rest of the day passed quickly for Mandark. He moved mechanically through the last four classes of the day, and before long, found himself at home. Looking at his watch, he exclaimed, "3:30! I don't have much time!" In a flurried panic, he raced inside, and proceeded to assure himself that he looked his best; that his glasses were clean, his shoes were polished, and not a hair was out of place. 

Upon completion, he looked at himself in the mirror in amazement at his newfound elegance. For certain, his gawky body and his large glasses remained, but his lowly appearance did not. His radiance seemed to consume him, and in an incredible, yet still awkward way, he was almost attractive.

Palms drenched with sweat, Mandark lowered himself slowly into a chair to wait for Douglas. Sure enough, minutes later came the ring of the doorbell. Mandark leapt up, and opened it. He was relieved to find Douglas wearing exactly what he had worn to school, and if anything, looking as if he hadn't combed his hair for a while. "Douglas," stuttered Mandark. Douglas didn't feel like waiting. "Are you ready?" Mandark nodded, and shut the door, grateful his parents were out, and Olga was sleeping over at a friend's house.

"Want to go to the North Park?" Douglas asked. "Okay." Mandark answered, still a little tense, but managing to calm down. This was difficult for him, since it was a well-known fact that the park was where people went to make out. Douglas acted as if that had never crossed his mind. "So, what have you been doing?" Mandark asked, wanting desperately to make conversation. Douglas's eyes narrowed, and he answered, "Not much. I had a pile of homework when I got home." "I made some adjustments on my time machine. I came up with a way to go into the future and age with it. In other words, if I went 5 years into the future, I would become 5 years older. Upon completion, it should work in reverse as well." Douglas was curious. "Have you tested it yet?" he asked. "Not yet," Mandark admitted. "I still have to update the system and make sure I can still use it as I originally designed it: to simply transport you to any time. The danger with this new design is the chance of going forward or back in time past your life span." "What happens then?" asked Douglas, worriedly. "I'm not sure, since this hasn't yet been tested. But I hypothesized that you would get lost in space-time, and certainly die." This made Mandark feel even more at home. This was the sort of thing he would talk about with his friendsif he had any. 

Still, Douglas filled the role of a friend and a lover. He and Douglas walked side by side, and occasionally, Mandark felt Douglas's hand brush against his own. Finally, Douglas laced his fingers around Mandark's, taking his hand. Nothing could have been more incredible to Mandark at that moment. 

The sun had long since gone down, and the park was hidden by the darkness. These two phantoms in the shadows of the moon were the last remaining people in the park. They sat on a tree-shaded bench overlooking the lake, which sparkled with starlight. Douglas silently extended an arm, snaking it around Mandark's bony shoulder, pulling him closer. Resting his head gently on Douglas's shoulder, Mandark did not want the night to end. 

Mandark raised his head, and looked up at Douglas. After a moment of deeply regarding one another, everything seemed right. Douglas placed one hand on the back of Mandark's neck, soft and smooth. It slid gently down Mandark's back, and Mandark's own hands fell upon Douglas's shoulders. Ever so slowly, Mandark and Douglas moved closer together until their lips touched. It was quick and light, with little time for emotion. After a breath, they kissed again, passionately this time. Mandark was filled with mixed feelings. He loved the sensation of Douglas's warm lips pressed against his own, yet something just did not feel right. He brushed it off; after all, this was the most beautiful thing that had happened to him in for longer than he could remember. 

Mandark opened his mouth, allowing Douglas's tongue to come inside. He was surprised at his own boldness, but enjoyed every moment of this. Douglas allowed his free hand to touch Mandark's leg, climbing it to his thigh, bared by his close-fitting shorts. This touch awakened a part of Mandark that had laid dormant his entire life. The way they were going, nothing could have made him want to stop. Sure, his romance with Douglas had begun as practice, simply for his own sake, but it was very different now. He was in love, beyond all doubt. Something told him he had to be as close to Douglas as he could possibly be.

Yet, underneath his newfound powerful, lusty exterior, he was still as self-conscious as ever. Was this really what he wanted? Assuring himself that it was, he pulled Douglas closer, and felt Douglas continue to move up his leg. All the emotion inside him endured, and brought him to erection. This, to him was the breakthrough of the night. 

As Douglas kissed Mandark's neck, Mandark caught a glimpse of his watch. "Douglas! Stop! Look what time it is!" Sure enough, it was 9:42. "My parents and my sister will be home at 10:00, and if they find out about us" Mandark didn't finish, as he was unsure of what they would do if they did happen to find out. But he didn't want to risk it. "Alright." Douglas agreed, stopping reluctantly. He stood up, took Mandark's hand, and bringing him carefully to his feet. 

They walked back to Mandark's house in silence. Again, there wasn't much left to say. Under the light that watched over Mandark's doorstep, Douglas whispered in Mandark's ear, "I'll call you tomorrow." Douglas gave Mandark one more airy kiss on the lips and slowly headed back to his own home. 

Watching Douglas go, Mandark was sure that he had made the right choice. Douglas was the one person he could completely confide in, the one he could tell everything to. He didn't want to go inside; he wanted to stay here on the step in the crisp air, and he wished Douglas would stay, too. But the sight of distant car lights approaching changed his mind. He flung the door open, barely taking time to close it behind him. He jumped into his pyjamas, only to end up with both legs in one pant leg. Snickering at the complete idiocy of it, he managed to sort that out, looking out the window to see the familiar Astronomenoff car pull into the driveway. 

His bedside light was on instantly, and he was in bed with a book in his hand as if he was trying to overtake 10:00. Mandark attempted to read his book, but was far too spaced to concentrate. His next chance to see Douglas was all he could think about; there was nothing more. Even Dexter was thrust into the background. After his flawless first date, Mandark fell asleep tired, but happy.

The next day, Mandark finished his book easily as he sat by the phone waiting for Douglas's phone call. That morning, the call came, and the boys were, again, talking about their usual things, with no mention of the previous night.

At lunch on Monday, Mandark waited for Douglas in their usual meeting place slightly longer than he was used to. Finally, Douglas showed up, yet he lacked the enthusiasm he brought with him other days. This continued throughout the week, and Mandark's frustration built. 

On Friday after school, Olga punched Mandark in the shoulder and ran out the door as he waited for Douglas's daily phone call. Late that night, he was forced to admit to himself that it probably was not coming. Yet, he was sure Douglas had a reason. Either way, he knew how to find out. Picking up the phone, he dialed Douglas's number and waited. "Hello?" said a deep voice. "Hello, Mr. Mordecai," Mandark answered. "Is Douglas there?" "No," Mr. Mordecai answered, he said he wanted to go for a walk again." Again? Mandark was perplexed. "What do you mean 'again?'" he asked. Mr. Mordecai paused, and answered uncertainly, "Well, that's what he told me last night as well." Mandark's mind was set ablaze: If he went for a walk last night With a quick goodbye to Mr. Mordecai, Mandark was out the door. 

He ran to the park without stopping, which was farther than he had ever run at once. On silent feet, Mandark followed the same path he had the night before. Without having gone far, he heard Douglas's voice. After all of Douglas's generally unapproachable nature that week, Mandark was now pissed off to the highest level of pissed-ifity. 

Looking around the width of a huge oak tree, sure enough, Mandark's eyes fell upon Douglas, and he wasn't even on his feet, so he certainly wasn't walking. But, without any knowledge of it, Douglas was explaining to Mandark much of the week. As Douglas horrified Mandark by kissing his other lover so fervently, Mandark had to use every fibre of his being to stop himself from crying or running back home. Douglas whispering the words, "I love you," in little more than a breath only made it more difficult. "These are words he'll never say; not to me." Mandark whimpered to himself.

Making up his mind to expose Douglas, Mandark wasn't sure how he would handle Douglas's other lover, who already made his life miserable in every other way. After destroying his experiments, disdaining him at every turn, and otherwise shattering his hope of a life that seemed worthwhile, how could Olga take his lover from him?


	4. Pulp Fission

CHEMICAL BONDING IV

By Lennon Karma, who really hopes her fanfic doesn't suck

I'm sorry it's confusing but that's just the way it is. Plus it never WAS Mandark/DeeDee. Well, not in the fanfic, anyway. So I apologize(you won't believe how long it took me to spell "apologize" right) for da confusingness. Uh, I still don't own any of da people, pleez r & r, I'm very bi and very proud, and I guess that's it. Oh yeah, while you're here I guess you could read the da fic. And r & r. Thank you.

Chapter 4:

Pulp Fission

Determined to pick up the pieces of the life his lover and sister had shattered, Mandark stepped forward, ready to unmask Douglas's deceit. Saying nothing, he revealed himself and faced Douglas. At last, he spoke, "Douglas." He said finally, half scolding, half pleading. Douglas slowly opened his eyes, releasing a short gasp. Quickly releasing Olga, he rose to his feet with a cool look on his face, as if he was proud to be the player he was. Seeing Douglas's smirking face, Mandark could only get out one word, "Why?"

Douglas put a hand to his forehead, sweeping back his thick brown hair. " 'Why not?' is a better question." He said. Where did this come from? Mandark was in shock; he had never seen Douglas act like this before. Olga rose to her feet as well, with an equally shocked expression. This was beyond her as well; even she was too confused to be mad right away, but this soon wore off. Grabbing the collar of Douglas's shirt, she hissed through clenched teeth, "I don't know, I don't want to know, I'm not asking. But you can consider yourself without a girlfriendunless there's someone else you haven't told me about. I never want you touching me ever again, Mordecai, or I'll touch you the way you don't want to be touched." Letting go of Douglas with a look of affection, yet bitter hatred, Olga turned on her heel and stomped away, fuming.

A little flustered, but still keeping his head, Douglas turned to Mandark, asking, "So, do you want to pick up where I left off?" Coming closer, he took Mandark's hands in his own, caressing them, lifting them to his lips, and kissing them, as if nothing had happened. Was he joking? The tranquil expression told Mandark he wasn't, but still, after being found with Olga, did Douglas really think Mandark was that desperate? While Mandark did love Douglas, even though their unity had been an accident from the start, even he wasn't about to let Douglas win so easily. 

"Pick up where **you **left off?" Mandark barked at him, jerking his hands free. "I just discovered why you have been avoiding me, and you don't even give it a thought?" Douglas shrugged. "Not really; there's nothing to care about." If Olga hadn't been enough of an unpleasant shock, this was. "I should have known this would never be as perfect as I thought." Mandark muttered to himself. By now, Douglas was becoming irritated as well. "Hey, I was hoping a guy would be less dependent. I thought only a girl would care about something like this. And you're crazy about me, and you know it." It was true; Douglas had boxed Mandark into a corner. Mandark was crazy about him, and nothing could make him deny it. With this opportunity in sight, Douglas seized another break, as he could plainly see he had Mandark's heart in his hands.

"Isn't it funny, you're fighting your sister for me! Sibling rivalry at its best." Mandark wanted to say something. To save himself from this, he had to. He wanted to say the cool thing, the manly thing, the right thing. But all he could come up with was, "But I thought you loved me," in a cracking voice. This sensitive plea caused even Douglas's hard heart to thaw, but only for a moment. "Love? Were you actually looking for romance? I certainly wouldn't call it "romance" when it's with a guy! That's more like being a fag. I just want to have a little fun." That did it. After everything they had had, all the love they had shared. 

Douglas still seemed unfazed, as if this was not a big deal at all. Mandark knew Douglas would again try to "have a little fun," and made a quick attempt at escape, but it was useless, as Douglas was faster. In a flash, his arm was around Mandark's shoulder. Kissing Mandark's neck, he tried to lead him away, but Mandark planted his feet into the ground; hi body language saying, "No way," rather than the usual, "You're mine, and I'm yours." In a rage, Mandark pulled again, trying to free himself. Scratching Douglas's bare arm with his free hand, Mandark fell backward as Douglas yelped in pain and thrust him away. "You worthless bitch! You meant nothing to me!" Mandark choked on a lump in his throat. What really shook Mandark now was Douglas's sudden change. He was nothing like this before. "No one could ever love you." Douglas spat at him, marching furiously away, leaving Mandark on the ground, alone with his feelings. How could the boy who loved him so much and gave him his first kiss say these things to him, and tell him he was worthless?

Mandark got up, but still felt as if he was on the ground. The expression Douglas shot at him was one to be imprinted in his memory forever. The moonlight on the river, which had looked so beautiful to him when he was here with Douglas the week before was now dissolved forever. "He's gone," Mandark consoled himself, breathing a sigh of relief, "But the river's just a river." 

Beginning the long walk home, Mandark wasn't worried about how his parents would react to his disappearance. Why should he even care? It was Olga he was worried about; it was enough of a blessing that she didn't grind him into the dirt the second she saw him. He couldn't very well expect her not to do so upon his arrival back home. 

Crossing his fingers as he opened the back door, he crept stealthily inside, latching it behind him. He was in the clear on the kitchen linoleum, past the meditation room where his parents sat, and began his way up the stairs. No matter how lightly he let his feet fall, each stair groaned at his weight. "Susan," he heard his mother, Ocean Bird call from downstairs. "Yes, mother?" "Could you come here please?" Sent into convulsions, Mandark came sullenly back down the stairs finding himself face to face with his mother. "Susan, honey, Olga told me" Here it was; the deafening blow. "that you were picking up your history notes from your classmate's house. I made you some hot cocoa to warm you up."

He almost expected eerie twilight zone music to take over, Mandark couldn't figure out why everyone was acting so out of character. Douglas blew him off, Olga stood by him, and his mother made him cocoa instead of the tea he disliked. Rather than jinx it, Mandark sipped his cocoa thoughtfully, thanking his mother and going upstairs, definitely ready for a weekend. 

Although the stairs were nothing compared to his trip home from the park, he now felt on the brink of collapse, starting on the inside. He took hold on the railing for support, and as he did so, Olga passed by right under his nose, not giving him the slightest notice. "Um, thank you for" Glancing over her shoulder at her brother, who was at her complete mercy, Olga interrupted his stuttering gratitude. "Hey, I know. They'll kick me out of the Little Sisters Union if anyone finds out, so keep it quiet. But what else could I do? You **are** my brother. But don't get used to it. You owe me BIG TIME." With one last swish of her pigtails, she disappeared into the realm of her room.

That sounded like Olga. Upon entering his own room, he was fully aware that he would be a long time getting over his first true love. He now knew heartbreak, not the simple heartburn he experienced constantly in the days before Douglas was such an important part of his life. This breaking made him feel as if his insides had been slowly carved out, and he was left hollow inside.

But if Douglas, who had seemed so sincere in his love, was just leading him on, what proof did he have that other lovers wouldn't do the same? Coming up with none, Mandark trudged over to the wall to access the lab and finish his time machine. He turned on his computer, and proceeded to direct all power to the time machine to provide enough energy for this new feature. With a few simple adjustments, it was finished. Seemingly identical, yet very different, Mandark regarded his work with a silent pride.

As he came back to his room, he still could not get past the thought of Douglas's immorality. Mandark was certain that Douglas would never do this to him without a reason; so it must have been something he had done. But what? Was he just not good enough? He had considered that before, and now he was becoming more and more certain that it was true. As he reached under the sink for his toothpaste, his eyes fell upon a bottle of pills. It would be so easy to just take that bottle and No, he told himself. Certainly not without testing the time machine.

Not wanting to wait, Mandark brushed his teeth quickly, and raced back to the lab. In an instant, he was standing before the time machine, ready to take whatever happened. Pressing a series of buttons that would make his dream a reality, he braced himself, and was gone. 

When the time machine was still, he disembarked to the outside, several years older. Finding it to be as dark and late as it had been at home, and himself beyond weary, he swaggered into a nearby empty room. Only meaning to rest his eyes a moment, he was asleep. 

In what seemed to him as only a few minutes, he was awakened by an alarm sounding, echoing across the walls of the room. Before he knew it, he was in a chair with a laptop in front of him. With his mind back on track, he knew all to well where he was. Overnight he had become his own employee, #13. From the next cubicle over, he could hear his own voice from the mouth of his future self, reprimanding the tardiness of #12. That in mind, he realized he could find true love, the real thing this time, only a cubicle away.


	5. Darwin's Theory

CHEMICAL BONDING V

By Lennon Karma, Bringer of Weirder Fanfics 

Uh, I don't own any of da people, pleez r & r, uh, I guess that's about it. Read da fic! Oh, one quick thing first: For lack of a better name, I refer to Mandark's future self as CEO to avoid confusion. (I am well aware that the next little while will be very confusing.) Okay, NOW you can read da fic. J 

Chapter 5:

Darwin's Theory

Mandark's fingers bounced quickly over the keys, responding robotically quickly to the commands of his boss, only to find that they were not for him. "Number 12!" The voice screeched over the inter-com. "Typing!" Mandark's mind returned to him at the sound of his own voice. The constant mindless typing set his mind adrift. Only now could he fully understand what he was doing to his employees, or would do someday. Wearing them down, their noses to the grindstone, slowly numbing them into accepting the takeover his future self was planning at that very moment. 

Mandark had forgotten just how easy it was to get on his future self's bad side. Upon turning on the laptop, he discovered message after message of "#13 expelledfloor surveyor needed" Seeing this message told Mandark that he obviously had this floor of typists under his watch. After pressing a series of keys, another message popped up. "Welcome, #13.You are the new floor surveyor. Tasks: Oversee floor quota - with corporate expansion, floor surveyors are required to observe individual workers. Troubleshoot and update all systems and system software. Keep record of all floor employees. Report any and all incidents to C.E.O. M. Astronomenoff." He found the strictness foreign to him as well as addressing himself as "C.E.O. M. Astronomenoff." Still, it was quite a shock to end up back here when the travel was only supposed to be a test drive. He pressed the okay button, and an overhead view of the floor appeared on the screen. The graphics were incredible; it felt to him as if he was looking straight down at the floor from above.

Stretching luxuriously in his chair, Mandark couldn't help but wonder what the last number 13 had done to get himself _expelled_. To him, this job resembled that of a security guard; little involvement unless an _incident_ called for it. He would skim through each section of the floor, yet one section more than the others caught his eye. Section Alpha.: #1#16. In that section, his main interest remained lying in the cubicle next to his own, #12. Wishing beyond all bounds of the imagination that somehow he and Dexter could be brought together, he locked his arms into a cradle across his lap, reminiscing on the sweetness of the love he had experienced with Douglas, which no longer seemed real. It seemed to belong in the dream he dreamed

This happened surprisingly soon, yet from what he remembered of Dexter here was that it didn't take much to succumb him, bending him to any will. A lack of noise from the neighboring cubicle told Mandark to bring this to Dexter's attention, or he himself would pay the price. A message to Dexter and a report to his "boss" settled his first crisis. No sooner than his work was done, a short message appeared on his own screen acknowledging his work: #13{1}. 

The rest of the day passed much in the same manner; with a subtle reminder to the pit of his desires next door, and a report to his future self, CEO right after. With another day over, at the end of the day, a voice boomed over the inter-com once more, "#12! In my office at once!" Feeling the hair on the back of his neck bristle, Mandark watched his screen. Dexter's image was plainly visible in front of his own laptop, then abruptly disappeared. 

Even after traipsing through the years to come, Mandark was entirely unaware of what awaited Dexter in his far off destination. He saw a row of buttons of various shapes, sizes, and colors on the arm of his chair, and pressed wildly at them in an attempt to follow Dexter's path. His combination proved incorrect; the chair became a mechanical bull, bucking him off and thrusting him to the floor. Reluctantly, he gave up on this hope of transportation and leapt up following Dexter.

The halls of the office were somewhat like the edges of the labyrinth, yet far beyond anything Daedalus could have designed. Stainless chalk white walls closed in around him, yet he could not see the end of the hall he was running down the length of. Endlessly bleak, the sullen décor fit the dark events that had and would continue to transpire here. Portraits of himself skirted the otherwise empty walls, relieving some of their monotony. Still, he couldn't believe that his time machine's upgrade had worked: he was his future self, yet he was very different.

Careening through the halls in a blind fury, he barely noticed crashing into an employee. As he groaned softly and got back to his feet, he saw the unmistakable hate and terror in the employee's eyes. Mandark was equally alarmed; when he thought of the misery he had caused for so many, he couldn't help but feel their affliction as well as his own guilt and regret. Obviously his future self did not feel that way; he was proud enough being the maniacal dictator he was. 

His eyes followed the loathing laborer back into his cubicle, but from behind him, he could hear the vile echo of his laugh. Spinning around, Mandark saw a red streak of light stretching across the carpeted floor. Following its span to its source, he found it to be coming from under a large, finely stained door, with the grandeur far surpassing any other in the building. An incredible gold leaf name plate stood at Mandark's eye level, with his own name engraved in calligraphy. The knob, also gold, flaunted the same M as the nameplate, and Mandark opened the door with a creak. 

The room flooded the hall in a shade that resembled red wine, and Mandark's swift entrance left him standing alone in this room, with nothing except the ominous black spires like those in his lab and a metal ring. He remembered its purpose, and knew that a worker's presence here had no positive outlook. With a sound resembling that of a garage door opening, Mandark hid quickly behind one of the spires and waited. The wall opposite him split floor to ceiling like a set of jaws, and the room brimmed with a steamy mist. There stood his future self, his mirror image, dragging in Dexter. Mandark, still bearing the mind and emotions of his youthful self, found Dexter more attractive than ever before. 

This had no effect on his knowledge of what was to come. Dexter took his position on the metal ring, masking his fear with the bravest face he could show. He was stripped down to almost nothing, and Mandark's heart raced in his chest. Sweat slowly seeped from Dexter's stolid brow; no matter what, he refused to show fear. 

This was to no avail. CEO was stubbornly heartless. "Every day, the same and you never learn, do you?" he sighed to himself, circling Dexter, the perfect predator for the perfect prey. "I can hardly blame you. Now that the neuroatomic protocore is where it belongs, out of your inept hands, I wouldn't feel worthy of life either if I was in your place. Thankfully, I'm not, as the strong rise, and the weak don't last. You of all people should know that." He grinned, narrowing his eyes, and came face to face with Dexter. It seemed ironic to Mandark that if CEO despised Dexter this way, why did he come so close to him? Their noses, only inches apart, nearly grazed one another. And another mystery Mandark considered was explained. The room's red glow stemmed from the core itself, safely tucked away behind some transparency in the center of the wall behind Dexter. 

He then looked back at CEO, to find him removing his leather belt, turning the monogrammed buckle over in his hands, watching the reflections on the walls. Taking hold of its smoothness, CEO paced a half circle around Dexter until he was directly behind him. CEO drew his arm back, and thrusting the free end of the belt onto Dexter's bare flesh, he smirked, which became laughter. Mandark winced in horror at the strike, which echoed several times after its contact. Dexter's back tensed up as he breathed deeply, but his expression remained stolid, immovable. Waiting for the shock of the first lash to sink in, CEO then made a second blow, followed by two or three more in quick succession. The searing throb radiated across Dexter's back out from the long gashes. Another snap of the belt left yet another white slash, which faded into a raw pink. The pain Dexter held from CEO came out on the face of Mandark. His eyes stung with hateful tears; Dexter was his mortal enemy, who would eventually lead to his downfall, yet Mandark loved him in a twisted, unearthly passion. 

The last crack of the belt lingered in Mandark's ear while he watched in agony as the skin of his deepest love parted, revealing a threadlike bright red line. The trickle of blood slowly left Dexter's body, creeping down his back, falling and spattering on the floor below. Knowing he was powerless to help hurt Mandark the most. He was frozen in fear, yet he would do anything humanly possible to set Dexter free from his bonds.

CEO seemed to strengthen from Dexter's anguish; with this newfound power, he put all his force behind every slash. Still refusing to allow any signs of weakness, Dexter stubbornly continued to keep it inside him. Pain was his weakness, escaping from his body, and he was stronger for it. But this could not save him from the lash of CEO's calmly administered wrath. CEO seemed, for the most part, as indifferent as Dexter himself. He did not seem sad, furious, or happy with himself and the suffering he was causing not only to Dexter, but to the entire office, but mostly to Mandark. Each blow was given with the hand of a master with no remorse, and Dexter received each with no vulnerability. Mandark alone showed emotion. Unable to watch any longer, Mandark turned away, feeling a lump in his throat as he covered his eyes and wept for Dexter. But this could not shut out the sound of the crack of the belt. 

At last, one final resounding smack across Dexter's back was heard, then silence. Mandark uncovered his eyes, and turned his head slowly, afraid to look, afraid of what he might see. Dexter's head no longer looked to the wall opposite him, but to the floor. His fiery red hair, stressed in the light, hung in limp, sweaty curls across his forehead. Dexter's back was now a horrifying array of blood, torn skin, and ragged raw flesh. That was only the beginning; the floor behind Dexter was splashed with blood, and Dexter's back still dripped. Ridding his belt of Dexter's innocent blood, CEO fastened his belt around his waist once more, and released Dexter from his prison. Dexter slowly stepped down, just gracious that it was over. He pulled his lab coat back on, and CEO eyed him, saying, "A man like you can never change." As Dexter left from the door through which he had entered, Mandark noticed the bloody circles that speckled the back of his white lab coat.

A proud look of satisfaction crossed CEO's face, and with one admiring glance at the protocore, he was gone as well. Mandark still shook, as the grim reminder of Dexter's torment stayed with him. Now, determined to seek revenge on his overbearing CEO future self. The jaw-like doors at the other end of the room were nearly upon each other. In a burst of speed, Mandark managed to squeeze through the door after CEO. CEO lay sprawled across a chaise, hands folded, and eyes closed, giving him an angelic appearance. Mandark continued to run in his direction, which quickly roused CEO, causing him to sit up. Mandark slowed to a walk several meters away from him, giving him a look of pure hatred. To say that CEO was not bewildered would be untrue, for even in his hardened state of mind, seeing another form of himself was certainly out of the ordinary. 

Standing and approaching Mandark until they were face to face, CEO was unsure how to handle this. Assuming that it had something to do with the recent events of time travel, he remained calm. Mandark tried in vain to say something to CEO, something that told of all the horror he had only just witnessed, the blood he had seen on Dexter's back and on the floor. He could not imagine being able to put into words the strength of his feelings against it. 

Frustrated at his inability to come up with anything, he tightened a fist, shifted his arm back, and let all his hatred come out in force, knocking CEO to the ground. It came with a vengeance Mandark didn't even know he possessed, it just came bursting through him.

Groaning and rising back up, CEO looked surprised, but ready for combat, even if it was with himself. He lunged forward and knocked Mandark off his feet. Both fell to the ground, and Mandark twisted violently, managing somehow to pin CEO down. "What makes you think you can do that to him?" Mandark spat in an adrenaline-charged rage. CEO's steely expression glared back at him, and CEO replied, "This is my corporation. The workers belong to me. I can discipline or fire anyone I chose when I see fit. Who the hell are you to tell me what not to do?" Mandark was too blown away by the tyrannical response to his rhetorical question that he was unable to say more. CEO continued, "The ones I knew in childhood cause the biggest problems. I was more than lenient on #12, who takes after that friend of his, #24. Mordecai, I think." Mandark lightened his grasp on CEO. Did he mean Douglas? Curious, Mandark couldn't help but ask, "I am your childhood! He was a part of me, no matter how short a time it was. What happened to him?" CEO's eyes glazed over, then he spoke. "Ever since I met him, he caused me no end of problems. I have only negative memories of him. You should know." Mandark assumed that if this meant what he thought it meant, CEO still bore a grudge on Douglas for his cheating nature. But surely this was more extreme than was necessary. Unless there was another reason as well

"He continued to try to get the better of me, knowing my weakness for Dexter." This alone told Mandark that he got the correct message. Old wounds given by Douglas led to more wounds. "In an attempt to separate him from Dexter, I changed his number from #24 to #601, but this had little effect on him. No amount of discipline, no amount of anything would work on him. Only one option remained; so I chose to resort to it. It's amazing what a little gamma radiation can do for someone. At least it was one more worthless nothing out of the way. " Mandark was dazed at CEO's irrational grudge for something that had taken place so long ago. CEO surged forward again, catching Mandark off guard and pinning him to the floor. "What about Dexter, then?" Mandark panted. "What about Dexter. Well, he serves his purpose. Being an executive requires time to unwind. He is very good at helping with that even if he is an irresponsible, lazy worker." The last three words were what awoke the final necessary surge of energy. Mandark struck CEO, forcing him off. He fought fire with fire, giving CEO the merciless beating that Dexter had received. 

CEO at last staggered to his feet, his own starched white shirt spotted with blood. He made a dash from Mandark into the time machine, yelling, "I swear to you, I will be there!" And he was gone. Confused, but glad to be rid of CEO, Mandark eased gently onto the chaise, seeing his chances at Dexter sprung anew, no matter how adverse. It would take time and effort, but it was the dream of the monarch of innovation; of course he could turn it into a beautiful reality.

The one flaw lay in his lack of consideration of CEO's destination. Arriving at his destination, CEO found himself returned to boyhood once more. He had every opportunity at his disposal; his brilliantly corrupt mind was his only limitation.


	6. Atomic Fusion

CHEMICAL BONDING VI

By Lennon Karma, who knows almost exactly what she's doing

"You say yes, I say no, you say stop, and I say go go go!" I luv dat song. Woo hoo hoo. I was dancing to it, but then I remembered I should work on da story. Uh, but anyway, I still don't own any of da people, I'm trying really hard to make this good, pleez r & r, andI guess that's it. Now for da fic! J J J 

Chapter 6:

Atomic Fusion

CEO found his neighborhood to appear just as he remembered it: incompetent, inferior. He looked out Mandark's bedroom window, seeing nothing more than a typical suburb. Quickly adjusting to his new age, CEO left Mandark's room, and came face to face with Wind Bear and Ocean Bird. His foggy mind cleared up, and he remembered them to be his parents. How long had it been since he had last seen them? Not long enough, he told himself. CEO knew that that was a definite advantage to living in his own time: their beaming faces no longer penetrating the shield of his dark world.

He tried to creep past them along the wall, but Wind Bear put a hand on CEO's shoulder. "Come downstairs for breakfast, Susan." CEO was in no mood for breakfast; he had other things on his mind. In his best attempt to sound respectful, he answered, "No thank you, Father. I have somehomework to finish." Ocean Bird raised a suspicious eyebrow, for Susan rarely had homework, and when he did, he would never wait until Sunday to do it. Yet, she never could tell exactly what Susan was thinking, so rather than argue with him, she let Wind Bear take care of it. "All right, Susan," he said. Just make sure you are down in time for the morning chant ritual." His parents went downstairs for breakfast, leaving Mandark alone at the top of the stairs. Leering down the stairs after them, he was grateful that his days of enduring them were over, as well as delighted at their stepping out of his life

He creaked open the door, masking his eyes from the sun's radiance. The thought f his grinning parents returned to CEO's mind, and he quickly tried to erase the memory. He wanted to be veiled by the darkness he knew so well. Rather than waste a today outside fighting the light, CEO decided to see what actually went through his head in his younger years. What made him such a straight arrow, a creature of the light? He could actually remember very little before his reign over the corporation began. 

His code to enter the lab had remained unchanged from the one he remembered, so he re entered it with the ease he always had. CEO found himself now caped and surrounded by spires drenched in red light. How primitive it all seemed to him now; all the "creations" here were nothing but child's play, the tinkering of his youth. Thinking back to his own time, he preferred the use for this space he had come up with: his self-made hell on earth, the Hall of Damnation. CEO's employees, Dexter more than any other, spent a lot of time there. Next to his capture of the neuroatomic protocore, this was one of his proudest achievements.

The flogging Dexter received the night before was certainly CEO's best memory there. What he couldn't get his mind around was Mandark's stubbornness. They were the same Mandark, just from different spans of life. If they shared the desire for technology, an enemy, and a mortal body, why were they so vastly different? Without having gone far into the lab, he found the answer, lying in plain sight on the computer desk. 

A heart-shaped cut out of Dexter lay on the table next to the monitor. CEO picked it up, realizing that this made all the difference. Now it made sense; it wasn't the workers in general Mandark was worried about. He was solely interested in Dexter. CEO could remember this. Although he was nearly 30, much older than Mandark, he still possessed the miserly, restless motion in the eyes. He was sure that he knew where his disposition took a turn for the worse, sending him turning through the years

When he became an employee here at age 21, for the most part, he had been unsuccessful in garnering Dexter's attention. Being hired here, he told himself, would win Dexter's heart. Only his best work would do, and he was somehow sure that his discoveries could bring them together. Still, Dexter barely noticed his existence, much like when they were together in middle school. Dexter and Douglas were always in their own little world. Even after all these years, CEO could not bear to look Douglas in the eye. It was too distressing a memory; he would rather be whipped than have to face Douglas again. It was almost as unbearable to see Dexter and Douglas together. 

Rather than remain at their lowly level, which he far surpassed, Mandark made up his mind to rise up from the menial tasks of the workers. Even in his younger days, he had fantasized himself as having ultimate power, and now was his chance at making that fantasy a reality. His driving force was knowing that if he couldn't convince Dexter to like him out of his own accord, this newfound power could force Dexter's affections. As empty and depraved a scheme it was, he was sure it would satisfy his yet unsatisfied need to be loved.

After laborious years of kissing up to his superiors, CEO rose to the top. This meant many of opportunities of his own to be beaten. Very few could he even distinctly remember; there were so many, and they were all the same to him. The last one he could actually recall was when he became a secretary for one of the chief executives. Ruthless and abusive, this was someone he would just as soon forget. Yet, he had him to thank for making him the great leader he had become

To his surprise, he actually came to owe Douglas a lot over the years. This was one of those times. Both were certain their paths would never cross again. CEO hoped beyond hope they wouldn't. Yet Douglas, being the sly weasel he had always been, brought him quickly to the top. CEO wished he could have been the secretary of anyone else, as he knew they would remain at odds after their close youthful encounter. 

Every day was torture. He had to punch a time clock every day for work, and working for Douglas made him feel as if the time clock applied to his life as well. Douglas seemed to go out of his way to make CEO miserable. CEO was little more than a slave. Signing papers and answering phones all day long kept him in a chair constantly, he could forget about sleep, and nothing he did was ever enough to satisfy Douglas's constant needs. CEO felt the pressure of the life he didn't live. He became bonier than ever before, as he rarely had time to eat. As time went on, at every chance at sustenance, he asked himself, "What's the point?" He would sometimes go days without any sleep, and his large eyes were underlined deeply by dark, thick circles. He was clearly wasting away, and he had no idea how much longer he would last. He hoped it wouldn't be long, because he couldn't imagine anything that could be so destructive to a single person.

One fateful day when he didn't meet Douglas's high standards was the day that pushed him over the edge in the past led to the global nightmare he inflicted on the future. While on a mission to collect a pile of copied papers, CEO began to give in to his lack of food and sleep. The stack of papers wobbled, and felt increasingly heavier in his arms. After a few unsteady steps, his head spun, his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor, allowing papers to fly across the hall. Douglas soon realized he was missing, and without having gone far, he found CEO where he fell. By now he was slowly coming back to life and trying to collect the papers scattered everywhere. 

Forgetting the papers, Douglas yanked CEO to his feet. His face reddened, and since he had never been good at "using his words" as his parents had always taught him, he simply dragged CEO back to the office. As Douglas opened a drawer in his desk, CEO knew all too well what was to come next. He lifted a black whip out of the drawer, holding on to one end and letting the other drop to the floor. CEO stood in the corner, as if trying to escape his sight. This was fruitless; Douglas's lips curled into a cunning smile, as it was back to old times. CEO was the servant; he was the master.

He instructed CEO, "Take your clothes off." CEO's eyes pleaded with Douglas to reconsider; his silence spoke volumes. When he didn't move, Douglas repeated, "Take your clothes off!" harshly this time. CEO did as he was told, uneasily keeping his eyes on Douglas. When he was down to his underwear, he flinched shakily, and pushed himself as close to the wall as he could. The cold marble numbed his skin, which became painful, but he would chose it over the whipping that was to come. So he braced himself against the frigid wall at the complete mercy of Douglas's unforgiving whip and hand. With a motion from Douglas beckoning him to step forward from the wall, CEO stood shivering.

Douglas wound up his arm as if he planned to throw a baseball, but instead threw a stinging lash. CEO screamed, and the sound was not quite human. He blinked back hot tears as the whip attacked his taut skin, tearing it as easily as tissue paper. CEO still lusted for Douglas, even through all the anguish Douglas had caused him. He wished he understood why someone he loved so much could still cause him to be so miserable? Douglas continued to snap the whip, leaving feather thin slashes all over CEO's body. Stroking a cut on his chest, he let its blood pool in his palm like water from a fountain. With another whip swish, CEO had another slice on the back of the hand. CEO looked at the floor, seeing the puddles of blood, and felt faint.

Douglas cackled, obviously thrilled with himself. When Douglas paused, momentarily ceasing the infliction, CEO, dripping with blood and sweat, looked over at him. In an effort to bring Douglas back to his old self, CEO whispered, "Douglas, I still love you." Douglas stopped laughing and stared at CEO. It struck him almost as funny. Gaunt, fearful, bleeding CEO told Douglas he loved him. Seeing this as too strange, Douglas laughed harder, and had to lean on his desk with one hand to support himself. A tear formed in CEO's eye and fell, mixing with the sweat and blood on his chest. With Douglas's unstoppable laughter serving as a distraction, CEO quickly put his clothes back on.

As he did so, Douglas managed to regain his composure long enough to demand, "CEO, wipe up my floor." CEO's bones creaked at he knelt on the floor to wipe up the blood. Droplets of freshly fallen blood crashed into the puddles of blood, creating small ripples. In a burst of exasperation, CEO shouted, "I don't even remember why we were together, but I regret every moment of it! It was Dexter I loved form the start! He is far more attractive than you could ever be!" instantly, CEO regretted divulging the secret that had haunted him since he and Douglas were "in love." 

"You are beyond help!" Douglas wheezed between laughing and gasping for breath. "Wait until I tell Dexter! Shit, that would be funny!" CEO was not bothered by this. What did it matter now? Sobering up briefly, Douglas undid a few buttons on his dress shirt. "Do you like that? Do you want me?" Douglas burst out laughing again, unable to repress it any longer. CEO was burning up inside. He was in agony the instant his shirt and pants touched his fresh wounds. But what caused suffering far beyond that of any physical pain was Douglas's constant taunting. Again, Douglas threw his head back laughing, and in his giddiness made his life-changing mistake. "You want me, queer? Come on, go for it!" 

CEO had had enough. Like his sister, he had a short fuse, and he could only take so much before it set him off. In seconds, he transformed from a pitiful, sniveling victim to Douglas's greatest fear. At first, Douglas felt nothing with his laughter overpowering him, but when he opened his eyes, he was silenced upon seeing CEO's enraged face right in front of his own. Douglas now knew what it meant to be in CEO's place, pinned against the wall. 

Douglas was not one to let anyone see him sweat, but this was an exception. His mouth opened and closed out of instinct, but he couldn't speak. CEO's eyes narrowed as he laid a hand more than firmly on Douglas's neck. It was so unlike him to stand up to Douglas like this, but Douglas had driven him to it. "Get out of my office." Growled CEO. Douglas readied himself to protest, but as he did so, the look on CEO's face made him think better of it. "NOW." CEO continued, pressing harder on Douglas's neck, feeling the Adam's apple move up and down as Douglas swallowed hard. Douglas nodded fearfully, as blood, the blood of angry men, splattered on him through CEO's soaked shirt. CEO released Douglas as he backed up, snatching up the whip Douglas let fall. "Enjoy being a typist." CEO spat as Douglas left, resentfully. Shooting CEO a spiteful look, he mumbled, "Faggot," and hurried out.

Ever since that day, CEO felt empowered in a way he could never have imagined before. Who knew simply throwing your weight around enough to intimidate your rival would be so satisfying? Nearly overnight, CEO flew up the corporal ladder, because after his run-in with Douglas was common knowledge, no one dared oppose him as he rose to power

CEO smirked, coming back to reality out of the memory. It was years ago, but what did it matter? It was such am incredible concept, they way he had managed to work his way to the top.

Suddenly, and idea came to him as he looked to the lab around him. If oppression worked on office staff, it should work on Mandark, too. He tore the cutout of Dexter to shreds, and wanted more than anything to seek revenge on Mandark. Satisfied for the moment with his work, CEO sat down on the paved floor, leaning back against the time machine to reflect on his finest hour.

At the same time, Mandark looked back with pride on his own accomplishments, as he luxuriously relaxed in the hot tub in his lavish resort style room. This was euphoria for him, a castle on a cloud: nothing had been so perfect, and he couldn't imagine anything better. Except one thing

Wrapping his monogrammed bathrobe around himself, he strode purposefully back to the office. All the secretaries shrank back in their chairs, not daring to make eye contact with him. He liked the feeling of power, but he preferred the thought of love, and this time, he knew exactly where to look. Sitting at his desk, he shook his head elegantly, allowing water to spray across the small room. Mandark then pressed a button on the intercom on his desk and in his most tyrannical, overconfident voice, he announced, "Number 12! Appear in my office immediately." Upon giving the request, Mandark sat back in the chair and sighed contentedly to himself, ready for his angel to appear before him.


	7. Covalent Bonding

CHEMICAL BONDING VII

By Lennon Karma, who looks in a mirror and sees a perverted image

Well well well. Chapter 7. Woo hoo hoo. Why do I always say that? That's like asking why I always say **Vote for a Scrote!** Owell. Uh, I don't own any of da people + pleez r & r. And as always, enjoy!

Oh! One more quik thingOlder Dexter (you know, "I'm typing!!!") I have named #12, again, just to lessen the ever-present confusion time travel brings with it.

Chapter 7:

Covalent Bonding

No matter what a worthless sliver of hell his life appeared to be at the time, #12 pressed on. Rather than risk yet another merciless beating, he kept his mind on task even surpassing his usual work ethic. The gruesome punishment the night before was still fresh in his mind and on his back; the wounds sent a stinging sensation through him with every movement he made. His lab coat, which had been white to perfection, was now blemished with his blood. Shifting in his chair to find a typing position that suited him was mission impossible. There was no way to escape the pain. Each brush against the coarse cushion on the back of his chair exposed an old raw gash, and he became used to the feeling of blood slowly trickling down his back.

Without Douglas around to keep him company, it felt as if there was nothing to live for. He had no other friends, love was never even considered, and typing was all that ever came of him. Occasionally, a disciplinary measure would separate the monotony of anonymous typing. It was anonymous, as he was known by no other name than #12. He wasn't a person at all, he was a number. To CEO, he was sure he was less than a number. If only he knew the truth of CEO Not that it would have had much effect on #12's opinion of him. CEO would still be the oppressor he was no matter what his life had been like. No matter how much he truly adored #12.

The abhorrence #12 felt for CEO's tyrannical ways was magnified thousands of times the day Douglas was removed from his life. One day, Douglas was just a hall away, the next, he was many floors above him. They could often catch a glimpse of each other, but never speak. This was enough for them, just to know that the other still thrived through the adversity and remained supportive. #12 had waited for Douglas to appear at their daily meeting spot near the elevator that day, expecting nothing out of the ordinary. After a suspiciously long time, #12's brow furrowed as he wondered, "Where could he be? Why is he taking so long?" The reason for his absence was explained when a horrific shriek echoed through the halls. Without even thinking, he knew. It must be Douglas. #12 ran blindly through the halls in a desperate search for Douglas. Not far from Douglas's cubicle, #601, was the Hall of Damnation. A crack in the door revealed Douglas chained to the metal ring, veins bulging in his neck, trying to escape the gamma rays that were bombarding him. After moments of Douglas forcing himself not to let CEO win and succumb to death, but it was out of his hands. Douglas weakened, and his life slipped away from him. #12 gasped, biting his lip. How could this happen? The question was answered when he saw CEO proudly aiming a tiny gamma ray straight in Douglas's direction, laughing hysterically. #12 could only imagine the power trip CEO was taking himself on. He must have forgotten who he was; only weeks ago he was a secretary possessing no life of his own, and suddenly rose up, murdering his own former boss. This could not be the CEO he knew. He remembered CEO had once been one of the quiet ones, much like himself. CEO was insecure; he could beat someone and laugh about it, but kill someone? #12 never could really get his mind around the fact that CEO had ended Douglas's life. He didn't want to believe it, but the fact stared him in the face ever since that day. Seeing Douglas there, he just wished that Douglas would open his eyes and say, "Hi, Dexter," just one more time. Remorsefully, #12 looked back knowing that Douglas never would, he was lost forever. What bothered #12 the most, however, was that he never got to say goodbye or let Douglas know that he wouldn't let another day pass without thinking of him. This plagued #12; the question burned in the back of his mind, screaming at him, "Did he know how much you would miss him?"

#12 feared not, as he had never said anything to let Douglas know how he would be missed. Still, they had been friends for so long, he may have figured it out on his own. The two seemed to share one brain, always on top of the other's latest discovery. Maybe that's why CEO was so extreme. 

The possibilities were infinite, but this was not all #12 had to worry about. He lived in constant paranoia; if CEO would kill Douglas without giving it a second thought, what prevented him from being next on the list? He jumped at every sound. The beeping of monitors in nearby cubicles caused his heart to race, fearing an unsparing gamma ray awaited him in the Hall of Damnation. Much as this fear tormented him, he knew in his heart that there were things far worse than death, and the life he currently lived could be one of them. One thing #12 added into the confusion was the fact that Douglas had been gone for years. If the same fate awaited him, wouldn't CEO have made it easy on himself and dealt with both in one devastating blow? Or CEO may have simply let #12 remain to watch him suffer as he watched the empty chairs in empty cubicles build around him, where his friends and family had once been.

Whichever was the case, it didn't matter. #12 was too harried to care. Cubicle design had seemed so simple at first glance; how could it become so complicated? #12 sighed and began adjustments for the new wing to be added to the building in the months to come. 

The beep of the intercom nearly gave #12 a heart attack. He heard the words he was so seriously hoping he wouldn't hear, "Number 12! Appear in my office immediately." #12 turned pale; his sweat-drenched fingers quickly logged out of his program, and he turned his chair to face the door, preparing to be led to his death. 

Mandark was on the edge of his seat, trying to leash his anticipation. He was no less nervous than #12 himself. What if this didn't work out, and #12 found out who he really was? Mandark shoved this worry to the back of his mind. Even if #12 did find out the truth, he wouldn't dare say anything. Even then, what would he say? And to who? 

#12 found himself, once again, surrounded by the grandeur of the recreation room that allowed CEO to be surrounded in splendor as he rested his superior intellect. It was this room that he especially feared; from here, he knew of CEO to slink out of the shadows only to mock #12 in a jeering delight. This encounter seemed no different.

Sure enough, Mandark stepped elegantly from the shadows, hands folded behind his back, his monogrammed robe billowing around him. Not wanting to appear over-eager, Mandark tried to imagine how CEO would handle the situation, disliking the idea of putting himself in CEO's fine Italian leather shoes

All was silent except for the click of Mandark's feet on the tile floor, as he slowly approached #12. An air of tension surrounded them, the only souls in the room. Mandark saw #12 swallow hard, his eyes widened with fear. Mandark had often dreamed of himself in a position of power, mainly in the form of a passionate fantasy, yet nothing like this had ever crossed his mind. #12's fear was not a fantasy; it was real, very real. In the short time he had to wait for #12 to show up before him, he puzzled over how to handle it. Again, a whimsical fantasy told him to be overly dominant. He had had fantasies before of taking off Dexter's clothes and being rough with him, but that was before it was ever a true possibility. Now that the option was open to him, he knew he didn't have the power within him. Even if he did, he knew he couldn't bear to see any more suffering in the face of anyone so innocent as #12. 

Mandark watched #12 sink into the chair as if it would make him invisible. #12 tried to hide the fear, but after years of being beaten over nothing, what could he expect? His presence on earth was a punishable offense. Mandark extended a hand to #12, who stared at it, wide-eyed. Withdrawing the hand, Mandark wanted to tell #12 everything. To get the dread out of #12's mind. To let him know the reason he was here. But this couldn't happen; there was no way to explain it. 

Wordlessly, Mandark backed away from #12, beckoning with his hand for him to follow. #12, swallowing the lump in his throat, rose shakily to his feet, and followed Mandark, with his eyes intently focused on the floor. Soon, he was sure, his back would again resemble the tile floor: red, cracked. 

Blindly he followed Mandark. It didn't matter; he was sure he was only going to the same place as usual, the Hall of Damnation. Or was he? #12 raised his eyes to find himself certainly not in the Hall of Damnation. It appeared to be an office, but an office far different from his cubicle. The walls were perfectly painted in a mural of a scientific motif; banners, plants, and portraits of CEO in various regal poses lavishly adorned the walls; and in the center of the room was a large desk of polished maple, covered in a orderly array of odds and ends, most of which were monogrammed. 

#12 was taken aback at how this glorious setting, a Holy of Holies, existed only seconds away from the hall of Damnation, hell on earth. Mandark was now fighting for hold on his coolness. How could he explain to #12 the truth behind the matter in a way that made sense? Unsure, he stood, facing the opposite wall, hands folded behind his back, trying his best to fit the posture of CEO. He found himself staring at a portrait of CEO that seemed to want to leap off the wall. CEO stood in a dramatic pose, a look of fury on his face, his hand in a tight fist. Even Mandark found it terrifying to look at, unable to imagine himself becoming this oppressive fireball. 

Choosing not to take the path of least resistance, Mandark turned, planning to take on the ways of CEO. Silently, he strode over to #12, grasping his wrist, and roughly pulling him to his feet. There was something about that moment, the impulses that created it, and would continue to fuel it. It was those impulses that had brought Mandark here, out of his won time, and away from a feeling of perpetual hopelessness. After the urges had done so much for him, he couldn't just ignore them. As he felt a new sense of power radiate through his blood, he remembered what that drive was: hormones.

It was simple as that. Holding #12's wrist with one hand, he quickly rested his other on #12's shoulder, and pressed his lips firmly against #12's. He did this as if it was custom, their daily routine. The kiss lasted to brief a time for Mandark's taste, as #12 pulled away in shock. Mandark grinned. "I love you," was all he could think of to say, and he said them more as a defense of his action than as an actual statement. #12 wanted to respond; he felt he had to say something. But what was there to say? Also, did he dare speak to this man who he had been positive was CEO. In a way, he was CEO. They were the same, yet vastly different. 

Mandark released his grip on #12's wrist and gently caressed the side of #12's face. The feel of the skin beneath his hand was incredible. #12's face changed from one of suspicion to one of acceptance. What did it matter? If this was CEO, why pass up an opportunity of him being civil? No, more than civil, _romantic_! But it was happening so quickly, and seemed too perfect to be so easily received. 

"Why are you doing this? Why me?" #12 asked, rather boldly. Mandark was surprised, and unsure of how to answer the question. It would have been so simple to just tell #12 the truth of it all, but instead whispered, "Because I am devoted to you. I always have been." It was the truth, in a sense, and it came from his core. What worried him was that it may have come out sounding too submissive. But what did it matter? They were here, together. Nothing could ruin the moment. 

* * * * *

CEO rose up from his resting place on the floor of the lab of Mandark's youth, ready to spring his futuristic ways on Mandark's time. His interest lay not far away, only houses away. In a flash, he was out the door, on his way to Dexter's. Dexter had one thing going for him; he was in the front yard, making the search for him that much easier. CEO looked down at his scrawny body, embarrassed at his bony frame exposing itself through his skin. He had log since forgotten the undesirable appearance he had back in those days

But CEO was not about to let this hold him back. If Mandark was willing to wrestle him to the ground in Dexter's defense, he must have an apparent weak spot for Dexter. CEO had to admit to himself that it was not as if he didn't; he adored Dexter as much as he always had. He just didn't know how to show it and yet avoid the niche that he knew would come with his affections.

"Hi, Dexter," he said casually, trying to mask the unease in his voice. Dexter looked up from his work warily, answering mechanically, "Hello, Mandark." The greeting was not out of friendliness and certainly not compassion. It was an automatic response. Intense as he was, CEO was persistent. He would not simply let this go.

* * * * *

Mandark didn't plan to let go, either. Here, for the first time in his life, he had #12 in his arms, just as he had always prayed he would someday; he would sleep in love's embrace at last. He had relocated #12, so he was leaning back in the well-cushioned chair behind CEO's elegant desk, calming the wounds on his back. Even without the protective cushion, #12 would have held out. Mandark was stretched across #12's lap, stroking #12's chest with one arm. #12 turned his head and kissed Mandark passionately, leaving little room for improvement. He had actually come to enjoy this, but that didn't eliminate his mixed feelings. Someone so hateful suddenly becoming a sweet, gentle lover? Rather than risk jinxing the moment, or finding he was in the middle of the best dream he had had soothe his psyche in years, #12 determined to have the time of his life. For once, it was right.

When Mandark released his upper half from its shroud of the dressing gown, #12 saw it as an invitation to stroke the smooth, velvety skin on Mandark's chest. #12 couldn't believe the thoughts running through his own mind. The whole atmosphere that surrounded them made #12's emotions fly. He could imagine no female who could compare to his pristine erotic lover. He laid his head on Mandark's warm chest, wanting to just sleep here, with the one person he never wanted to be away from again, and wake up together. To spend their lives together. 

Standing up slowly and briefly, Mandark let his monogrammed robe fall to the ground. He nestled gently back in #12's arms, and kissed #12 airily on the neck. Soon, they found themselves entranced in each other; kissing, stroking, loving.

With one final kiss and embrace, both sighed deeply, and with a heavy reluctance, stood up. Mandark wrapped his robe around his body once more, and locked hands with #12 as he saw him to the door. #12 turned quickly, and after a moment's hesitation, whispered, "I love you, too." In Mandark's longing ear. No words ever spoken to him before had ever sounded so beautiful. #12 sat on the cushion of his chair, and was taken back to his cubicle. 

It was certain. Mandark found his time machine experiment to be a success and #12 to be the affectionate lover he had always pined for. Yet, there was one thing that ruined his moment of euphoria on top of the world: his need to return to his own time. There was still so much to discover in his own world, and he couldn't stand for his name to be an alibi. This life, however perfect it was, just was not for him, not his life to live. 

* * * * *

Dexter was in awe. *Mandark* being so nice? Gentle? Pleasant? None of the words he came up with could fully describe what the afternoon had been. CEO was not anxious to leave; he had been having the time of his life as well, but clouds collected overhead, and rather than be stuck here in the rain, even if it was with Dexter, the only person on the planet who could tame his brutality. "See you soon, Mandark," Dexter murmured after him. "Of course." CEO responded, seductively, although he was imagining that he wouldn't. 

As he got back up to the house, the rain was streaking the skies violently with large, heavy drops. A thunderclap echoed not far away, and CEO quickly entered the house, locking the door behind him. Masked in shadow, he shot up the stairs, ready to head home; he'd had his fun. On the way back to his room, his gaze crossed through Olga's room, his eyes landing on her. Just the sight of her filled him with an old fury. It was Olga who had pitted him against Douglas in the most devastating way All he could remember of the incident was how Douglas was letting her destroy their relationship.

This was not entirely true, as Olga had been just as upset about Douglas's cheating, but that never crossed CEO's mind. He saw an intruder, disturbing his life. Revenge was in order, he told himself, and blindly careened into her room, seething with rage. It wasn't something he even had full control over. His brain screamed at him, "No! Just go back to your time. What's done is done." This was what remained of Mandark's life in him. CEO's life-force, however, forced him in pursuit of this repeat offender of vandalizing what he called his life. 

At that moment, Mandark, refreshed in body, mind, and spirit, returned from the days of his future. They were beyond satisfying, in fact, he found them beyond any description. For once in his life, it seemed all was right. Until the sound of Olga's terrified scream penetrated the wall that separated their rooms.

She didn't see CEO coming in his stealthy swiftness. With one will - aimed blow, he knocked her to the ground. Olga was no pushover; she was she was back on her feet, ready to strike back much faster than CEO had called for. This didn't matter to Mandark, who appeared in a frenzied rush from his room. Olga looked up, hearing the noise, and turned pale at the sight of Mandark standing at the door. She backed away from CEO, and Mandark moved in. Grasping forcefully at CEO's collarbone, Mandark hissed, "You" Rage that built up inside him made it impossible to speak normally; after the chance that he might hurt Olga, it took every spark of energy within him to keep him calm. "Come on," CEO spluttered, "You don't like her either. Admit it!" Mandark glanced quickly at Olga, and responded, "I already owe her for not letting on aboutwell, Douglas. But I owe you, as well." Two rapid strikes caught CEO's attention. "What did I do to deserve that?" he shouted at Mandark. "One is for Dexter, and one is for Olga. This is not over; but you would be smart to leave now. But I'm warning you, I'm a stronger Mandark by far." He thrust CEO to the ground, and CEO stalked away, a spiteful look crossing his face. Olga and Mandark followed him, seeing him off as he left for his own time. After a moment of silence, Olga looked up at Mandark. "Thanks," she said, almost smiling, and returned to her room. Mandark collapsed into a chair, worn out after the constant activity of the last while. Thrilled as he was to have shown #12 his love for him, and rid the house of CEO, he imagined with dread that not so distant day when they would meet again.


	8. Oil and Water

CHEMICAL BONDING VIII

By Lennon Karma, who hopes ppl like this story.

Here we go again! This chapter's kinda short (I don't like doin' luv scenes too awful much, believe it or not), but the next one will probably be long. I **will **finish Brightwing when I finish my Chemical Bonding saga. This could go on for a while, so sit back and enjoy. A big spank u to Hyperintelligent Shade of Blue and Onnachan S4D for their encouragement of the songfic I should do more of those. Sensitive Suicidal Geeks Anonymous! I love it!!!!! But I don't own them or anybody else. Please r & r, and enjoy da fic!

Chapter 8:

Oil and Water

Mandark knew he was not one to surrender, so he was more than sure CEO wouldn't succumb easily either. But Mandark had youth on his side, and CEO's haughtiness often set off a spark of anger, which ignited a full-scale attack. He was so quick to leap to Dexter or Olga's defense. Then why wouldn't he react the same in his own defense? Unsure, he brushed it off, sure that the matter would take care of itself. 

By morning, sure enough, he could not even remember the cause of his anxiety the night before. All he could think of was the time he spent with #12: some kind of heaven on earth. Now #12 was worlds away, and yet with him their world was started. Mandark left his home early in an atypically good mood until he had to pass Douglas's house. He remembered when this was his favorite place in the world to be. But now, the thought of Douglas made his cheeks redden in humiliation. After spending all this time trying to force Douglas out of his mind, Douglas crept back in to loom in Mandark's mind.

To Mandark's apprehensive dismay, Douglas was on the front porch of his house, taking advantage of the beautiful Saturday as well. Mandark raised his head proudly, determined not to look Douglas in the eye. It didn't matter, Douglas was onto the ploy. As Mandark passed by right under Douglas's nose, he heard a whisper in his ear, "Faggot." There was no way to respond to this, so Mandark continued on, hearing Douglas snicker after him.

He waited until he had turned the corner of Douglas's street before, he let his stolid expression change to a broken one. He truly had loved Douglas, for reasons that could never be explained. It was just the way he felt when they were together. It almost reminded him of

"Hello, Mandark." Mandark recoiled in shock, then quickly answered, "Hi Dexter!" Just as he had left him, the predecessor of glorious #12. Not much changed, Mandark realized. What he didn't realize was how well CEO's magic had worked on Dexter, entrancing him in his spell. Dexter could never have told the difference, all he knew was of the sudden change between shy, everyday Mandark, and the hedonist he had so rapidly become. It seemed almost dreamlike, now. And yet the memory was too clear for any dream. He had had crushes before; the typical suspects: his babysitter, the popular girls from school, he even melted for his large-eyed admirer. The thought of himand a guyespecially Mandarkstrange. Impossible to imagine. But it was so. He couldn't help but adore the lips that kissed him so sweetly, the hands that held him close, and the inquisitive mind that matched his own. It was fate; they were meant to be.

"Mandark," Dexter beckoned, heading back in the direction of his home. "Come with me." Mandark knew the tone in Dexter's voice. It was the tone Douglas spoke in that night in the park. Mandark couldn't believe what he was hearing. His "office job" with #12 was enough to have to work his mind around, but now this, too? Rapture. Mandark followed Dexter quickly, unable to believe what was happening. Nothing explained Dexter's sudden acknowledgement of him inthat way. 

* * * * *

CEO had a similar difficulty figuring out why #12 had become so giddy overnight. His mind seemed everywhere but on his work. Even CEO had to admit that this was unlike #12. Of course, this convinced him he had every right to let Dexter seriously take the heat for this one.

"#12! In my office!" #12, being the naïve creature he was, could only assume that this was an invitation for part two of last night. Eagerly logging out of his program, #12 turned his chair to find himself in the Holy of Holies, much like the night before. Tingling with anticipation, #12 grasped the arms of his chair, awaiting his lover's appearance. In moments, CEO appeared extravagantly from his office. He did not wear the satin dressing gown of the night before, but his usual tweed suit. #12 secretly hoped he would get to help CEO slip into something more comfortable. This thought made it impossible to hide a smile. 

CEO smiled too, but it had a sneering edge to it, which #12 couldn't pick up on in his gleeful state. This only encouraged the masquerade in his head, letting him believe his dream was true. CEO motioned for #12 to follow, and although he knew nothing of the past evening, he assured himself that #12's optimism could easily break down with one crack of the whip that started him down this road so long ago.

#12 was willing to blindly follow CEO wherever he went; it was all the same to him as long as they were together. Even inthe Hall of Damnation? #12 stopped in his confused tracks as the door locked shut behind him. A sharp, wavering pain radiated through him. This was anguish enough, and the suffering he knew was to come only worsened it, but he felt the worst pain of all when he turned around. He came face to face with CEO, who menacingly muttered, "Strip." #12 heard the command clearly, but it wasn't meant the way he wanted it to be.

* * * * *

Dexter opened the door, cautioning Mandark to be silent. He was, and followed Dexter up the stairs to the room he had seen before, but never fully appreciated. This was where he had wanted to be ever since the shocking discovery of his preferences. The two laid back on Dexter's bed, arms around each other. One look into each other's eyes brought them into a frenzy; after all that had come between them without them actually being together, they couldn't hold back their heartfelt affection for each other. 

In minutes, they were stripped down to nothing, and yet so comfortable with each other it seemed that they had done so may times before, which, in a way, they had. Even Mandark had to admit, this was an improvement over #12. Here, both knew they other as he knew himself, so they were prepared. #12 had warmed Mandark up, readied him for his serious connection. He had imagined making love with a boy many times, mainly Dexter or Douglas, but being here, up for the real thing was another story. This was his chance for Dexter's love. It was all or nothing, now or never, him or CEO.

It was all. It was now. It was him. Mandark couldn't get past his sensation of glory. He felt so complete, having proven his love to Dexter, and given it to him so generously. He made his way home thinking of nothing else, except #12, who held his hand through it all.

* * * * *

#12 received his thanks from CEO in the form of the brutality he was accustomed to. Where had the romantic CEO gone, he wondered. Surely that perfect night was a dream. This ebb and flow of CEO's personality seemed unrealistic. CEO's ways were carved in stone and nothing could make him change. It had to be a dream; unless there was another reason, one past his thought. CEO had long since stopped whipping, but was pacing the length of the room, his mind swirling in assessment. Walking back to #12, he took the employee's chin in his hand, murmuring, "Shall we pay a visit to my past self? He's certainly expecting me, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I brought you along." CEO was considering Mandark's willingness to lash out in defense of #12, which CEO knew he could manipulate to his advantage.

* * * * *

Mandark opened the door to his room, off in his own world, but was brought back severely by the sight of CEO, masked once again by boyhood, sprawled across the bed, hands overlapping across his chest, legs stretched straight out. He looked up, sighing nastily, "There you are. You kept me waiting." The hair on Mandark's neck bristled, and he geared up to lunge on CEO, wanting to be rid of him once and for all. Before he could move a finger, CEO continued, "You might think twice about that once you see who's in your lab." Mandark let go of the breath he was holding. He hadn't yet moved, and he didn't need to. He already knew who awaited him behind his gateway to science. He knew how CEO's mind worked, and how easy it would be to bring #12 into his conspiracy. He prayed for the safety of #12, neglecting his own. His life would hardly be worth living without that of his lover.


	9. Destructive Interference

CHEMICAL BONDING IX

By Lennon Karma who cries tears on her pillow cuz she not allowed to MST 

(Cuz Sarah will find out and she'll tell mom and I'll be grounded and my parents took the stairs down cuz I'm grounded well I'm not really grounded yet, but I will be in big trouble if I MST just like when Sarah is eating bugs and I'll be grounded. Sarah bad for Lennon Karma and Ed)

Uh, maybe a kind reader could explain to me where that came from. Blame my parents, I guess. Well, you know the drill by know, and if you don't I will challenge you to a duel! Choose your weapon. CHOOSE! The honor of Lennon Karma's fanfics has been avenged. Then I will bake you cupcakes and say, "I don't own any of da people, and pleez r & r." Uh oh. FISHFACE! Could someone scratch my scales? Hyperintelligent Shade of Blue! Is that you raising your hand? (Sorry to Hyperintelligent Shade of Blue for that one. I'm high on caffeine. But if I'm gonna work on this I better calm down. Deeeeeeeeeep breath. Deeeeeeeeeeeep breath.) Now without any further nonsensical babbling, to da fic!

Chapter 9:

Destructive Interference

Mandark's entire body convulsed as he braved his emotional uprising and entered his lab with CEO right behind him. Although the two appeared identical, anyone could perceive a difference. Mandark's fear was evident to the self-important mind of CEO, and he reveled in it. Once inside the lab, Mandark's fears were confirmed: there was #12, transformed to youthfulness as well, in a chair, ensnared by electronic shackles of ions with enough charge to destroy him with one touch. He looked over helplessly, seeing the two Mandarks. He now knew that it was this Mandark who had given him one perfect night in his long, exhausting career. #12 wanted to speak here and now; he wanted to disregard CEO and meet the arms of his lover again. What did it matter if Mandark was a part of CEO? It didn't, to him. They were to different people here before his eyes. #12 wished it could be that way, but he knew deep down it couldn't. Bound to the chair, he couldn't move; and with CEO here, giving him the steely stare he knew so well, he dared not speak.

It was no different for Mandark; he wanted more than anything to run to #12, run to him and tell him everything would be okay. He didn't care what CEO said or did. What stopped him from acting on his vision was his own uncertainty if everything would turn out all right. "#12!" he called out, but #12 responded only with a look that Mandark had seen too often on this sweet face. Losing all concern for his own well-being, Mandark ran to #12 and knelt beside him, resting his own hands on top of #12's bound one, carefully avoiding the ions. They looked intently at one another, and no words spoken could have possibly said more. 

CEO smirked to himself, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to keep Mandark out of his life for good. Being two forms of the same person had its advantages when they were allies, but when pitted against each other, CEO found Mandark to be more trouble than he was worth. Still, having been in this hopeless romantic stage at one point in his life, he knew Mandark's weak spots like he knew himself. This gave him the upper hand, as Mandark had yet to find the CEO within him, and he had yet to know what drove CEO's motives. Seeing Mandark and #12 together, it only reinforced his uncaring plans; not even one drop of guilt ran through his blood. To get the results he wanted, he had to make an offer Mandark could never refuse. And keeping Mandark out of his time and away from #12 while giving Mandark what he deserved already seemed like a good deal. 

"Mandark, don't you wish you could get #12 out of this?" CEO began, working diligently to contain his bottled excitement. He saw Mandark and himself as two different people just as #12 did, no longer wanting them to be seen as one and the same. "Well, if you take his place and never get in the way of my authority again, he will be fine." Mandark knew that this meant never seeing #12 again, but he didn't want to see any more harm be inflicted on blameless #12. Mandark turned his head, preparing to agree, but #12 quickly whispered to him, "No, don't" Mandark quickly responded, "Yes. But my future self will be the one who suffers." Not listening, CEO shut down the electric charge, and dismissed #12 back to his own time. Shoving Mandark into the chair, CEO turned on the charge again. CEO rubbed his hands together, knowing he had Mandark in a deadlock. Mandark was fallen from grace, with nothing on his side but his love for #12. Even Mandark had to see the futility of fighting against this stonehearted superior intellect, but it was the point of no return.

CEO leaned his arms on the back of the chair, gazing absent-mindedly to the corner of the lab. "You don't know just how foolish you really are, Mandark. You know he will only be beaten again once I get back to my office. Every time I see you, you remind me even more of our parents" CEO's voice trailed off. That was a mystery. Mandark remembered having journeyed to the future many times before, but had heard nothing of his parents. The way CEO said "parents" how most people would say "homosexual" made Mandark that much more suspicious. Sure, they weren't as accepting of his scientific ways as he would have liked, but they were still his parents. Mandark shuddered to think of what CEO could have done.

Mandark's eyes met CEO's, but before he could ask anything, CEO told Mandark straight out, "You should thank me for ridding the world of them. I changed the chaos to order and light that day." CEO paused, trying to repress a smile and depraved laughter. "They didn't originally work for the corporation, only Olga and I did. They asked us to send them letters whenever we had the chance because we were never allowed to leave; only executives could. Everything was fine at first, until I was working for _Douglas_. I sent letters all the time, telling them about all I went through. Olga got answers to her letters every time, but when I wrote them these letters about Douglas's immoral tyranny, I never even got one response! I must have sent dozens of letters, and not one in return. I knew they always disapproved of my love for science and mysexual preferences, but couldn't they at least bear to send me one letter to tell me they still cared?" CEO's voice filled with an emotion Mandark had never heard in it before. He had heard it sound thrilled or furious, but now it sounded almost forlorn. There had to be another reason for why CEO was not receiving letters from his parents. They were broad minded enough to accept his scientific nature enough to let him pursue it, and they had always been determined to be loving parents. Another thing Mandark couldn't figure out was how his parents found out he was gay. He hadn't planned to tell them any time soon. He figured he must tell them sometime over the years. Whatever the case, for the first time ever, Mandark actually began to feel sorry for CEO, but couldn't believe his parents would let him get like this and not take the time to send him a letter. As CEO stared reminiscing off into space, Mandark was convinced he saw CEO's eyes sparkle with tears that had been held back for ages, longing to fall.

CEO would not let them, especially not with Mandark right there. Again restraining them, CEO stood up straight, continuing, "So I was even more dedicated to making it to the top, with or without their support. Although it was without their support, it didn't matter to me. But still I was irate from the ignorance of the callous bastards, so I couldn't just forget it. Since I was planning to expand my work force anyway, I called some officials to 'recruit' them and a handful of other citizens for me. They were at the bottom of the corporal ladder, and they took care of all the menial work, such as building the recreation suite that connects to my office, and later janitorial work and assembly of robots. Eventually this became obsolete, as their work was to be the function of the robots. With an overcrowded office and no other work to suit them, I could only exterminate them. I remember the routine on their faces so clearly as they sat in their chairs to work. Unfortunately for them, they didn't know I sent a guard to each of their cubicles to ionize them. It was somewhat like a serious attack of static electricity, only much more interesting to watch!" Seeing Mandark's horrified revulsion, CEO added, "Well, if it's _that_ bad, you can be glad it was over quickly. They probably didn't even notice. They were alive one minute, and the next" CEO smiled humorously, still convinced that his employees were his pawns. He couldn't see them as people, just as things who did his bidding automatically. "An executive leads a busy life." CEO picked up again. "We only have time to fully discipline so many people. There aren't enough hours in the day to do so. Fortunately, I have all the time in the world to persecute you as they deserved to be. You should thank me for this, as well. When it was me in your place all those years ago, this only pushed me harder on my path to where I am today. Believe me, after all you go through, it _is_ worth it. Everyone has no choice but to do whatever you tell them, and if they don'twell, you get to have a little fun." And Mandark readied himself to be on the wrong end of this 'fun'. 

Now it was Mandark's turn to feel the #12's everyday suffering. Gritting his teeth and grasping the arms of the chair, Mandark took the blows as they came, not even bothering to distinguish one from another. It was all the same. Mandark shut his eyes at the sight of the blood and masses of raw flesh and strips of his shirt slipping from him to the stone floor. He didn't make a sound, and he didn't flinch in agony, not wanting to let CEO know how deep each strike sank into him. Each echoed numerous times from the walls. It took all the effort within him to avert his mind from the pain into thoughts of #12 and his love for him. And after an eternity of firsthand empathy for #12, it was over. The striking ceased, and Mandark opened his eyes slowly, dreading the sight that he would find before him. His arms, legs, and chest were swollen from loss of blood, and a deep indent in his left arm where blood and flesh had been slashed away gave him the sickening sensation that his arm was no longer there. What he saw horrified him, but what he found much worse was the thought that #12 had to endure this regularly. True, the pain was excruciating, but to Mandark was much more painful to watch #12 stand there and take it that have it be him in his place.

CEO released the bonds on the chair, freeing Mandark. Mandark tried to stand, but his legs were so shredded up with slashes that he fell to the ground almost instantly. A gently moan escaped him against his will to show no pain. CEO laughed a quietly triumphant version of his usual maniacal cackle, and taking his chair with him, CEO stepped into the time machine, saying, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. So this should make you a lot stronger. The office should be in fine hands when the day comes!" CEO called to Mandark in almost a brotherly affection as he disappeared. This made Mandark grateful that he had no brothers.

As he gingerly tended to his wounds, Mandark could only hear CEO's words echoing over and over in his head, _"You know he will only be beaten again once I get back to my office. You know he will only be beaten again once I get back to my office."_ He hated to imagine #12 having to go through what he just had. Mandark cradled his left arm in his right, wishing that there was something else he could do. _"You know he will only be beaten again once I get back to my office."_ What could he do? Not much now. Unless 

As quickly as he could, Mandark was back to his lab entering the time machine. He set himself up to appear in #12's time right before they left to come to the lab. In seconds, he was there, older, but equally dilapidated. The time machine was where he remembered it, at the far end of the recreation suite near the office itself. At the sound of approaching footsteps, Mandark staggered into the office, and as he did so, he could hear CEO speaking harshly to someone, then the sound of the time machine transporting someone. Moments later, he heard it again, and #12's silhouette appeared through the curvaceous glass plates on the office door. Mandark opened it, nearly bumping into #12. 

Shying away from Mandark, #12 turned to run, but Mandark said quickly, "No! #12, it's me." #12 stopped in his tracks, and turned smiling to Mandark. Seeing the bandages, #12 believed it. Mandark spoke again, "There's no time; CEO will be back in a few minutes, and unless you want to look like this, we better move." #12 nodded and followed Mandark out of the suite into the deserted hallways.

Once there, #12 couldn't help but ask, "Where are we going?" Without stopping, Mandark answered, "I'm going to get you out of here. CEO is mad; he's murdered his ex, his parents, countless others, and was probably thinking of killing me, his past self as well. What is going to keep you from being next on the list?" #12 swallowed hard, seeing the logic. Mandark was also sure the only thing that saved him from CEO was the fact that they truly were one and the same; killing Mandark would mean killing himself. Even CEO wasn't that desperate.

The two made their way through the halls as quickly as they could coping with Mandark's condition. After passing through a couple of halls, Mandark remembered a route to salvation. "#12, the Hall of Damnation is where my lab once was. I had numerous paths to the outside, and if they're still there, you could get away from here forever." #12 smiled graciously, but the sound of CEO's severe voice calling him over the intercom sobered him quickly. Mandark and #12 sped up on their fearful passage to the last place CEO would ever think to look for them, and where #12 would find freedom. 

After crisscrossing through various halls, they came upon the Hall of Damnation. Once inside, Mandark searched the walls for a codebox or a switch he had used as an easy way out of the lab in his younger days. At last locating one, he tried all the codes he had ever used, and one worked. A large stone in the floor raised up, creating a portal to freedom outside. #12 gently took Mandark's hands in his own, softly saying, "Take my love, for love is everlasting." Mandark pulled #12 closer to himself, replying, "I already have. To love another person is to see the face of God." Overcome with passion for everything that was taking place at the moment, Mandark leaned down, kissing #12 much as he had the last time they were together. He didn't want it to end, but for #12's sake, as well as his own, he knew it would have to. 

Mandark saw #12 off and wished him well, then quickly departed, wanting more than anything to be back in his own time. As he limped back through the halls across the path from which he had come, he was met with the sound of rapid footsteps, and a shadow appearing from around a corner that could belong to no one other than CEO. 

In a panic, Mandark ducked into a nearby unoccupied cubicle. Slipping to the floor and leaning against the back of the desk, he was just out of sight as CEO poked his head in the door, and moved on. Mandark sighed silently, and falteringly stood up again. He did so much too quickly, and nearly collapsed to the ground again. He caught his balance on the edge of the desk, causing a drawer to partially open. After regaining his composure, Mandark hobbled to the front of the desk to shut the drawer, but his eyes unintentionally caught sight of the drawer's contents.

He reached inside, retrieving a letter addressed toCEO? The drawer was full to bursting of letters addressed to CEO. What were they doing here? This was cubicle #24! Examining it more closely brought the solution, and suddenly everything made sense. Mandark remembered CEO having said that he sent his parents infinite letters, telling them of the horrors he faced under Douglas's power, but never received any response, while Olga, who was already an executive, had her letters answered all the time. And once CEO took over the corporation, he demoted Douglas here: to cubicle 24. Mandark could only imagine that Douglas had been keeping all incoming mail from CEO. Sure enough, every letter was addressed from his parents. 

The letters lay in a scattered half-circle around Mandark, as he opened and read a few, just to see what CEO had been missing. 

__

"Dear Susan,

We miss you so much. It's disgraceful the way you are treated. You are in our prayers, and so is Douglas. His Fascism will only lead him into more misfortune. But that will never make up for what he has already done to you. Ocean Bird was terrified for you when she saw the drops of blood on your last letter. Please, son, understand that we are doing everything in our power to free you from the horrors you see and experience every day, but we aren't having much luck. We love you very much, and want more than anything to bring you home.

~ Wind Bear +Ocean Bird"

This letter in particular out of the five or six he read struck Mandark as the type of thing that could have possibly saved not only all those who died at CEO's hand, but CEO himself as well. The thought of all those lives brought back and replenished actually gave Mandark the dose of optimism he desperately needed. But the sound of hard approaching footsteps coaxed Mandark to abandon the letters, as he didn't have time to put them back. He hurried back to the time machine, and was gone as quickly as he had come. At home once more, he crashed into bed for a much needed rest, and fell asleep instantly.

CEO stalked the halls viciously, looking for a trace of #12, realizing he was nowhere to be found. Although uncertain as to how, he was confident that Mandark had something to do with #12's disappearance. Dejected, CEO was ready to admit defeat and give up the chase. He made his way back to his office, but as he did, he noticed something odd in a cubicle. Double taking, he stepped inside, to find the pile of letters covering the floor. He knelt down and went through them, shocked at what he found. Looking at the envelopes, CEO grabbed a fistful of letters, and screamed. "Damn you! Damn you people!" The words echoed through the halls. He tore open letter after letter and read the words he had been cheated out of years ago. As had Mandark, CEO could only assume that since this was the cubicle assigned to Douglas, and no one else would care enough to do this to him, it must have been Douglas's work. Hot tears finally fell from his eyes, biting his cheeks. 

He wanted revenge. But on who? Douglas was already dead, #12 was gone, and nothing could bring his parents back. That left only one person, the person who had caused him more grief than anyone else over the past few days. Mandark.

What made him hesitate was the fact that he had already done his share of work on Mandark not long ago, and he couldn't kill him. Surrounded by the pile of letters, he came up with a brilliantly evil scheme once again. The problem was the solution. Letters were the answer. 

In a flash, CEO was back in his office, scrawling away with a pencil. Compiling every thought he had ever had into an incredibly erotic tome, he folded it and hopped back into the time machine. Seconds later, the deed was done and he had returned, satisfied that this was the ultimate revenge on Mandark.

Mandark lay asleep on his bed, not waking to the sound of CEO creeping past him and carrying out his plan. That night, as Wind Bear tiptoed into the room he shared with Ocean Bird, he saw her leaning against the wall near the bed, reading something with a shocked expression on her face. "Ocean Bird, what are you doing?" he asked. She looked up quickly, answering, "I found this note our son wrote to some boy named Dexter. Wind Bear, our son is gay." 


	10. Collapse Past Neutron Limit

CHEMICAL BONDING X

By Lennon Karma, whose scales are satisfied

Lennon Karma is at an impasse. She knows she should finish Brightwing and she really does kinda want to. But then again, she feels boxed into a corner and just wants more than anything to forget it. Help? But to the point. Here's chapter 10.**Be nice. J So, once again, I don't own any of da people, pleez r & r, and enjoy! (Factoid: For anyone who cares, the title is named for the process of a large star dying and turning into a black hole.)

Chapter 10:

Collapse Past Neutron Limit

Wind Bear looked over Ocean Bird's shoulder in shock. Yes, he had pushed his luck naming his son Susan, but that couldn't have caused it. Whatever the reason, that just couldn't be right. Not his son! But there were the words:

__

"Dexter,

You were great last night! For someone who has never been with a boy before, that was impressive. No one has ever kissed me like that before, and I want you to know how much I love you. I don't care what anyone says about us, I'll always feel that way. Whenever I see the picture of you in my room, I remember what we have. I'll see you soon.

Love you,

Mandark"

CEO did his best to simulate Mandark's personality through his words, and did a convincing job of it, right down to the picture on Mandark's dresser. He knew that this visual evidence would confirm the letter. CEO returned to his own time satisfied with his work, and sure that this time, Mandark would get what he deserved. 

Wind Bear and Ocean Bird were quiet, unsure of how to respond. After a few uncomfortable moments, Wind Bear headed in the direction of Mandark's room, crossing the threshold he rarely dared to. Mandark's room was an unknown world, until now. He opened the door with a creak, and finding Mandark asleep he warned himself to silence it. Barely stepping inside the door, he found the heart-shaped cut out of Dexter lying on the top of the dresser. Wind Bear's face became grave as he turned quickly in a dull horror and shut the door behind him. Returning to Ocean Bird, he put an arm around her. Somehow, she was not as willing to accept this as he was. "Wind Bear, there must be something we can do about this," she sighed. Wind Bear was not as bothered by it. "What can we do? It's not hurting anyone, and it's his life to live." Even Ocean Bird had to admit to herself that it was true, but it wasn't enough. 

As Olga was getting ready for bed herself, Ocean Bird saw it as a good opportunity to shine some light on the situation. Leaning against the doorframe, she said, "Olga," in the soft, breathy voice she often used when she wanted to figure something out. "Yes?" answered Olga, in higher spirits than usual. Ocean Bird came silently into the room, and continued, "Do you know anything about this?" she asked Olga, showing her the note. Olga skimmed it, and found herself with mixed feelings. This surprised her that her brother would have the guts to write that, yet it made sense, because she knew about Mandark's 'preferences' from the Douglas scandal. She also had a feeling that Dexter had laid at the root of the matter. Olga picked up on the disturbed tone in her mother's voice, which made her reluctant to disclose the whole ugly incident. The Little Sisters' Union would absorb her back into their ranks with pride for this, and her mother clearly wanted the truth. Still, he was her brother, and she didn't feel right betraying him this way.

"Yes," she answered grudgingly. "Dexter is some guy in his class. And MandSusan was going out with one of my ex-boyfriends." Ocean Bird's jaw was ready to drop, but she said nothing. She left for the sanctuary of her room with her cheeks burning in bewilderment. Still, she was determined to stay the liberal mother she was, Ocean Bird forced herself to get over it, which did not come easily. But days later, it was shoved to the back of her mind and lay unconsidered.

Olga, however, could not just forget it. She already knew he was gay, but never gave it full consideration in terms of what it meant for her. What if she was gay, too? Did it run in families? She wasn't sure, but she hoped not. The fact that her parents obviously weren't gay, she was more certain that she was straight as well. 

The thought hung in her mind in the days that followed. The thought was just strange to her. How could Mandark be gay? She careened through the day in her own world, thinking about Mandark, and his 'preferences.' In the blink of an eye, she was sitting at the lunch table with DeeDee across from her. DeeDee lowered an eyebrow, wondering what had taken over Olga's mind. Only days earlier, she had been bouncing off the walls, absorbed by her ballet routine. Now she stared through DeeDee to the wall behind her. This was not like her. DeeDee finally had to get Olga to open up, let out the reason for the silence. "Olga, what's up?" she asked trying her best to sound innocent. "You're quiet today." 

After a couple seconds delay, Olga snapped out of her train of thought and looked back at DeeDee. "Oh, nothing," she said unconvincingly. DeeDee rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, I believe that. Now tell me." Before Olga could hold it back, she told DeeDee the complete truth. "My brother is gay," she whispered. "And my mom is taking it kinda hard. I'll admit, it even came as a bit of a shock to me." DeeDee couldn't believe what she was hearing. But a sense of relief came with it. She had always feared Mandark had been admiring her from afar, and her friends LeeLee and MiMi had often teased her about it. This was great; now she knew it couldn't be true. She couldn't wait to tell them so they would know the truth, too!

Huber Middle School was not a large school; news traveled quickly. By the end of the day, this was common knowledge. The expressions of disgust and scorn began to follow Mandark on his daily route from class to class. The words "homo", "queer", and "fag" peppered the conversations of all those near him. These words couldn't pertain to him. How could they find out? He had kept his feelings so inner. 

At home that afternoon, Mandark made up his mind to confront Olga, the sole other who knew his secret. Tapping her shoulder as she began to climb the stairs to her room, he shyly asked, "UmDo you know why everyone at school keeps calling me a faggot?" He worried that this may have been too direct, but it definitely got the point across. Olga turned slowly, realizing that her carelessness had began to crumble her brother's 'social life.' But he had posed the question in such a way that hinted that he wasn't onto her. "Maybe they weren't talking about you. Douglas acts pretty gay most of the time." She answered, trying to sound as if she knew nothing of it. This was not Olga's day for lying. Every time she tried, it was uncovered. Mandark's eyes widened; if he hadn't guessed already, he saw her guilt plainly now.

"All right." Olga admitted. "I accidentally told DeeDee, and she must have spread it around. I'm sorry." Mandark wasn't mad, he wasn't even annoyed. She was his sister, and he could forgive her, but he just couldn't bear the thought of living the truth down. "Olga, you should have known she would tell!" Mandark shot back. He didn't wait for her answer; he didn't want one. "Mandark, listen to me! Please!" she pleaded, but found herself talking to his door. She pounded on it, still imploring him to come out. 

Finally, he opened the door with an exhausted look on his face. "Mandark, please, listen." Olga continued. "I really didn't want anyone to know. It was an accident." She could see he couldn't care less how or why it happened; it was simply the fact that it had happened that bothered him. "But it wasn't just me. I wouldn't even be thinking about it if mother and father hadn't found that note you wrote Dexter!" Mandark was completely confused now. Nervously, he asked Olga, "Which one? The one Douglas had?" Olga thought about it, then answered, "No, they found it on the vanity in the bathroom. I'll get it for you." 

After only reading it once, Mandark was confident that this was not something he had written. "I could never write a letter like this to anyone." He murmured to himself after Olga had left him alone. But who would do this? It certainly looked like his own handwriting. A bad feeling filled him as he realized the possibilities of what this meant. If CEO knew he had helped #12 escape, he would see revenge fit

Mandark couldn't stand to read the words; they only assured him more and more that CEO was out for blood. "How can I now allow this man to hold dominion over me?" The question repeated itself in his mind. Numerous other thoughts accompanied it, such as "Where do I go from here?" and "How can I face anyone?" but most of all, "What's left for me?" Dexter had kept his distance after school even after promising to meet him. With Dexter stepping out of his life, there was very little remaining.

Mandark decided to pay CEO a visit, and this one would end the rivalry once and for all. "CEO!" he called out, the instant he stepped out of the time machine. Moments later, a door behind him swayed an out came CEO. "Well," CEO hissed, meeting Mandark eye to eye. "How did everyone like the note I wrote? I thought you might like it." Mandark held his composure gracefully as CEO laughed in his face. When CEO calmed down, Mandark answered him with, "CEO, meeting you was the worst mistake I ever made, even if it was only a test for my time machine. Now I'm going to test it again. If I transport myself forward past my lifetime, what will happen?" 

CEO considered, then suggested, "I guess you just get lost in time. I don't know what happens." Mandark looked him valiantly in the eye. "Well, CEO, I'm going to find out." As Mandark began his way back to the time machine, CEO grabbed his arm. "You're not serious, are you? I never went to 'find out!' I just lived with it all, and look where it put me!" CEO began pleadingly, fearing for his own existence should Mandark die. Mandark only shook his head, saying, "We are one person, and we share the same human body. But I'm not you up here," Mandark paused, pointing to his head. "I don't care anymore. I'll go where it takes me and I'll deal with it. And I don't want to see any more people fall victim to your oppression." Mandark clearly shocked CEO, who couldn't imagine his former self stepping out of history's confines. 

Pulling free of CEO, Mandark returned to the time machine, and programmed it to transport him to the distant future. And just like that, he was out of CEO's life.

CEO was filled with panic. What would happen to him now? The world he had known was lost in shadow. Now that he feared the end was in sight, CEO realized how right Mandark really was. CEO knew that after all the people he had killed in his lifetime, it was his right to die as well. Before long, he knew the end was coming. It wasn't laid out in front of him, it was just an intuition he felt within him. He felt his life slipping away from him, and as easily as Mandark had left through time's doorway, nothing of CEO was left but the painful memories that would forever haunt those he tortured in his cruel years of oppression.

I know, that kinda sux. But that is not the end. Yes, there's more


	11. The Event Horizon

CHEMICAL BONDING:

EPILOGUE

By Lennon Karma who REALLY hopes this doesn't suck

I, Lennon Karma, say again that I hope this doesn't suck. I wanted to do the last part of this in kind of a different way, so I'm doing something like what I did for "A Beautiful Oblivion." Cuz I'm gonna do a poem thingy and then make wit' da explanation of da last chapter (A final chapter warning: Don't be too analytical here. Waaaaay too complicated if you delve into it too far.) I finished Brightwing so if you haven't read the end or the beginning yet, go for it. (Be warned- bizarre.) Once again, I don't own any of da people, r & r, and enjoy. Pleez review kindly as my world is a dark place and flames do burn

Epilogue:

The Event Horizon

__

You broke the rules you set for yourself

And stepped out of your life today

You say you_ don't care, _

When I know you do

__

Into the vast

Unknown

I can't imagine what you'll discover

On your journey from yourself

It's more than travel

You're leaving you

You're leaving me

I'll never forget what we had

__

This isn't another of your games

Even if that's what you've been thinking

No happiness 

Nothing

But chances lost

Everyone losing

When you're gone, you're gone forever,

There is no turning back.

__

Cold portraits of you

Stare in horror at those you left behind

Just remember where you've been

I ask where you're going

But you never answer 

I'm just calling after no one

Mandark had no regrets as the time machine left CEO's office. CEO had repeated his reign of terror enough times already, and rather than let the vicious cycle continue, Mandark knew changing the course of the future this way was the only chance of preventing it. At the instant he made the change, pulling himself out of his own life, he took CEO out, too. Slowly weakening, CEO was gone as well. But this did not erase his work in the past. He had existed then, but it was more than existence, it was tyranny. CEO was not taken out of the past, simply out of the future. His monument was the horrific memories that haunted the minds of those he dominated, tortured, and put to death. And certainly, it would not have displeased him. Unless a move was made to change the past again, Mandark's life would come to a valiant end at the young age of his hopeless romantic self, and CEO would never again come to be. Douglas, Dexter, and Mandark's parents would get the chance at life they had missed before, but they would have to live it without him.

__

You had just been right in front of me

But I never saw you until you were gone

I blinked and missed 

What could have been

__

Discoveries

Horrors

No difference 

Everything you found out

You wished you hadn't

Why can't everything be like 

Before

Promises mean everything

__

Two people fighting

Are really only one

A fight with yourself was worse 

Than one with your beloved enemy

But is he really you?

__

Desperate 

To prove him wrong

And save 

All who lost

Themselves to him

You gave yourself up

The ultimate defense

#12 sat restlessly in his cubicle. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as it so often did when he knew something was amiss. This was usually a sign that discipline was to follow; he cringed in his seat waiting for the referral to CEO's office that he was sure would soon boom over the inter-com, but time went by and it never came. Starting to wonder, #12 considered the possibilities. Maybe he was just fooling himself with his usual paranoia. But it was so rarely wrong 

Every brain cell demanded #12 to sit back down and keep typing, but his body overcame it, raising him up and propelling him to the office. The silence was incredible; usually the hustle and bustle from CEO's quarters could be heard through the door, but now, nothing. #12 crept inside, no longer caring what came of him as he was mystified by all his suspicions. The entire recreation room was bigger than he remembered, but he had never before gotten a good look at it. After a search from the door he entered through nearly to the other end, #12 couldn't believe he couldn't find CEO. But if he couldn't find him, why could he hear CEO's voice?

#12 followed the sound of the voice, and it led him to the time machine. Seeing two CEO's he could only assume one was Mandark. The only words he caught were those of Mandark, " and I'll deal with it. And I don't want to see any more people fall victim to your oppression." Mandark stepped into the time machine and its radiant light consumed him as he departed. #12 could only watch in vain as CEO slowly crumpled to the floor and was gone as well.

Unable to take in what he thought he had just seen, #12 could come to no other revelation than that something had happened to Mandark. He was thrilled CEO was no longer around to make his life miserable, but it would be miserable anyway without Mandark. Nothing else would matter if he had another night like the one he and Mandark had had

He walked aimlessly through the recreation room, alone, silent. He knew he should have been happy, but with Mandark gone it just didn't seem worth it. #12 felt he was going wild with a confused panic. What happened? It didn't make any difference what had happened in truth, as Mandark would never come back. But this wasn't enough.

Reaching the Hall of Damnation, #12 placed a hand on its frigid tile wall. He would never have to come here again beyond his will. This time, however, it was of his own accord. He remembered what it was like to feel CEO's fist clenching his wrist, and dragging him to the metal ring. Now that he actually had the chance to see the room clearly, #12 caught a glimpse of it. All sorts of torture devices littered the room. On the back wall, various smaller things hung from brutal rusted hook or rested on shelves. Examining each, #12 sighed, then grabbed a small device on the bottom shelf. #12 was looking for a quick way after Mandark, but what he didn't realize was that it was this laser that took the life of Douglas. Turning it fearlessly on himself, the gamma radiation ate away at his mortal body. It weakened, and in moments, he fell, and was on his way to follow Mandark, Douglas, and anyone else who had died at CEO's hand.

__

The memory remained for

Those who had suffered 

His wrath

But you rescued everyone you knew

From enduring the torment for

Eternity

__

But what of you?

You can't return 

Not now

Never

I'll go on without you

Just like I should

__

You watched your life unravel

Slowly

Painfully

Atom by atom

Agony

__

Slipping away

Knowing you were going

But not where

Did you know I was thinking of you?

Although it did not pressure him out of following his feeling, Mandark's fear soared to heights he had to force himself to suppress. But the thought that it was for the good of all to follow pushed him on. What he found amazed him. It was not like any other trip in the time machine. Whether it was a true phenomenon or simply his nerves he could not tell. But it was as if his life was flashing before his eyes, only on a more dramatic scale. It was as if the stages and events of his life were here in front of him, absorbing him into their days, and then dropping him off, only to be picked up again.

The memories of his younger days were bright, convivial, alive. They were blurry, though. His parents' faces were digitally blurred like that of a television criminal, as was his sister's when she entered his world. As he aged, everything became clearer, but darker. Fearful, death-marked, personal memories were stirred up from the bottom of his past. The worst of these being the recent discovery of his homosexuality, and the experiences that followed it. These more than any he longed to run from, leave the time machine and return home. Death itself didn't intimidate him this much. But this was the event horizon, and he had passed the point of no return.

Then, a brilliant flash brought him past the fateful day and into the future that could have been. He expected to watch CEO's hostile takeovers relayed back to him, and then beyond into a brief taste of world domination before his corrupt world fell apart. On the contrary, the first thing he witnessed was #12 rising up and taking the long walk to the Hall of Damnation. What followed was a sight to reckon with. The thought of #12 doing this to himself only saddened Mandark more, as he felt that he had brought it into happening. When that ended, he found a world similar to that of his childhood reminiscences. It was equally intense, but this time it was clear and crisp. He saw no sign of himself here, or anyone else he immediately recognized. Until he saw Olga. He saw her stepping up to a podium and speaking. Even Mandark couldn't resist chuckling to himself. But it made sense: if he was not the leader of the family, she was.

As the flashes passed, he felt himself getting older, clearly older. Now an old man, Mandark knew he didn't have long. In his final moments, he imagined that what he had just seen was what would happen when he wasn't around to live his life. He saw it to be just as well; the world was better off in Olga's hands.

"Will you join in our crusade" From all around him, a sound reflected from everywhere around him. "Who will be strong and stand with me?" It had many voices. "Beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see? Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free." Then around him, one by one, appeared dozens of people, Douglas and Dexter among them. 

The multitude fell silent, their song died away, and from Dexter and Douglas, Mandark listened to them say softly, "Come with me where chains will never bind you; all your grief, at last, at last behind you." Those words told Mandark for sure that he was doing the right thing. Mandark joined the throng, and followed them to salvation, blinded by the whiteness

__

The passage of time is vile

The light brightens

Are you free 

Are you safe

Will you ever return

__

Lost in time

Maybe someday you will be found

Someday

Then come back again

__

I want to see you step back out 

In front of me again

And come back again

But you'll never come back again

_You broke the rules you set for yourself_

And stepped out of your life today

You say you don't care, 

When I know you do

But you'll never come back again


End file.
